Word: jefferson
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
Though he had been hailed as the Liberator, he found himself deep in debt, abused by his compatriots, branded by his country's Congress as "an enemy of Venezuela." He died feeling that he was a failure. Writes Author Frank: "Bolivar strove to be Moses, Madison and Jefferson to a people not yet mature enough to produce them: this was his greatness and his tragedy." Part of this greatness was his clearheaded realization of how he had failed. Wrote Bolivar: "It will be said that I freed the New World, but it will not be said that I achieved...
...however, he flanks dramatic dialogue with three incantatory prose sections. Flush with rhetoric and folk humor, these evoke what Faulkner himself calls "the vast splendid limitless panorama of America." They also invoke the high codes and courage Faulkner associates with the Old South, in this case the founders of Jefferson, Miss, in mythical Yoknapatawpha County, seat of Faulkner's fictional kingdom. The Temple Drakes, the Gowan Stevenses and their slack-spined, country-clubbing breed have corrupted these codes, he implies. The only atonement is suffering. In the South, the Negro knows most about suffering. Perhaps, Faulkner seems...
...James Jefferson Davis Hall was 75 and sick in bed the day the phone rang. Moreover, it was a wrong number and the voice at the other end apologized. But something moved Hall to speak. "Hold on," he said, "you've got the right number. Are you a Christian...
After that day in 1939, James Jefferson Davis Hall, Alabama-born Episcopalian who moved to Manhattan in 1924, spent most of his time answering calls to his number, Circle 6-6483. It was an unorthodox mission, but the spry, bearded old pastor had never let custom stand in his way. For nine years, from 1928 to 1937, he had preached to noon-hour crowds in the downtown financial district, become known as "The Bishop of Wall Street." Now he became "Dad" Hall, the telephone preacher, and as word of his number spread, he got dozens of calls a day. Each...
...repeaters and I feel like the president of a sunshine factory. I wear hand-me-downs, and eat of the spirit, and I'm so happy I don't want to go to bed nights." One night last week, after a five-week illness, the Rev. James Jefferson Davis Hall, 86, went to sleep for the last time. He had told friends the epitaph he wanted on his headstone: "I preached not what they wanted but what they needed, and I found it easy to be a Christian." His text will be followed exactly. Meanwhile, the phone...