Word: joy
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1950-1959
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...conceal from himself the fact that Geneva was a defeat for his country, a victory for Communism; he wanted only to be greeted, he told a Cabinet minister, "as a man who had a difficult job, and who accomplished it." Said Mme. Mendès-France: "Pierre has no joy in his heart...
...even the loudest cheers had no note of jubilation, and the warmest congratulation betrayed a nagging suspicion that not peace, but trouble, lay ahead. Britain sighed in gratitude for a respite. Said the Times: "There is cause for deep thankfulness in the news about Indo-China. There cannot be joy." Said the News Chronicle: "You can do something constructive with peace. You can only win a war . . . [But] a war averted can be a trap if it turns out to be only postponed...
...good putting this thing off." And he was incensed about Guatemala. "The fact is that this was a plain matter of aggression, and one cannot take one line on aggression in Asia and another line in Central America. I confess I was rather shocked at the joy and approval of the American Secretary of State at the success of this putsch . . . There was a principle involved, and that principle was the responsibility of the United Nations. I think it was a mistake in those circumstances to try to hand it over to a regional body . . . Guatemala has left a rather...
...Brubeck Quartet; Columbia LP). Collective improvisation (gathered on a recent campus tour), sometimes rowdy, sometimes reflective, by the greatest jazz combo on records. Brubeck's piano leads the new trend toward serious modern music while preserving true jazz feeling: Paul Desmond's alto sax sings with plaintive joy; Joe Dodge's unfettered drumming and Bob Bates's bass give the whole thing a driving beat. Last week this one was, to the squares' surprise, outselling Liberace...
...What a joy!'' crooned the wife of Food Minister Gwilym Lloyd George,* as ration books were tossed into bonfires all over the nation. But 2,000,000 less experienced housewives, who had never before managed without ration books, were frankly baffled at the richness of the new territory that opened before them. TV screens worked overtime showing the subtle differences between top ribs and shell bones. Newspaper columnists turned epicure overnight, and at the Times Bookshop in Wigmore Street, the 93-year-old Mrs. Beeton's Cookbook, with its cautious presumption that eight pounds of steak should...