Word: knowed
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...know a fellow can get into an awful lot of messes when he starts helping the other fellow with his troubles instead of minding his own business. If he has nothing else to do, he ought to go fishing. . . . So, instead of building faster airplanes, bigger battleships and a bigger army, lets build bigger and better lakes to fish in, and stock 'em with fish with bigger and better appetites. However, before we do all this, I think we should team up with England, France, Belgium and China and put Europe back on a status quo basis of about...
...nearly 9,000 residents do not consider it "tiny." It's the second largest town in the entire southwestern quarter of Iowa (Council Bluffs the exception) and Crestonians are proud of its up-and-comingness. Crestonman Elmo Roper of FORTUNE Survey needs take no poll to know that. And you'll hear more about Creston if Crestonman Frank Phillips is successful in his present quest for a rich oil pool beneath the famous bluegrass (and corn) fields of this area. Creston even had three daily newspapers when Crestonman Gerald P. Nye was behind this very desk...
...that I know concerning Mr. Robin Feild, as a result of talks with him and opinions concerning his work which students have expressed to me, leads me to suppose that he has that rare kind of usefulness which I have described; that his teaching at Harvard has in a very real sense contributed to the necessary task of facing the present with whatever intellectual equipment both past and present can provide; and that Harvard cannot afford to lose...
Buds on the trees. Girls on the Charles. Spring in the air. Within the Vag's innermost soul, an Urge, long hibernating, began to stir, yawn, stretch itself. Vag thought of all the girls he didn't know,--then tried to think of one or two he did. There was that red-head at Smith. He had written her a couple of weeks ago. Maybe it was Spring at Smith, too; maybe she had answered. Vag dashed down to the mail box, but no letter from her. Only a very large and very official letter from Milwaukee...
...idea grew. No more would he have to worry about the red-head from Smith. They'd take care of her down at Washington. Perhaps red-heads weren't anthropologically compatible with brunettes like Vag. Washington would know! No more worry about that little Radcliffe wench he'd met in Fine Arts class, either. A Senate Investigation Committee would probably submit a report showing how many Radcliffe-married Harvard men had thrown their wives out of windows in the last sixteen and a half years...