Word: lacings
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...always a lace-and-ribbon rather than a cap-and-sweater socialist. He adored reason and persuasion above emotion and force. He also loved the elegance of the society he deplored. He liked to recite by rote for hours at a stretch from Pascal, La Bruyere, Saint-Evremond. He knew Anatole France, Zola and Proust. He wrote Latin verse, brilliant dramatic reviews for avant-garde magazines, a study of Stendhal, an imaginary talk with Goethe, a book on marriage (dedicated to his wife) that shocked the bourgeoisie because it favored as much premarital experimental love for women...
...test on a dawn-till-breakfast show that soon built up a fanatic following among Washington's thousands of live-alone Government girls. Encouraged, Godfrey began applying the same personal approach to his commercials ("Whew!" he would say after reading some copywriter's purple prose advertising lace undies). Everybody was outraged but his listeners, and when the listeners hurried to buy, sponsors and radiomen quickly calmed down. Godfrey had learned a lesson he has never forgotten: "They don't care what you say on the air as long as it sells...
...biggest sales season next to Christmas, Hall Brothers was, as usual, turning out more than 1,000,000 of its "Hallmark" greeting cards every day. There were no fewer than 500 different designs for St. Valentine's Day,* ranging from 5? greetings to $5 concoctions dripping with lace and scented sachets...
...Childe Rosie progresses through Italy to the accompaniment of a mighty lurching, whanging and screeching of the prose mechanism. Anybody with half an ear would call for a garage stop, but Author Llewellyn doggedly goes on piling up mileage. His princess does not get angry: she "looked through scarlet lace." A soldier does not feel regret: "hands were wringing in his brain." Snowy's leg is not suddenly weak: it goes to "laughing gristle." Other Llewellynisms that would flood any ordinary carburetor: "A quick thrust of pity alchemised her feeling to a silt of motherly impatience"; "she rolled over...
...hobby is a hectic pleasure sandwiched in between her old ones. She spends about a fortnight on each picture, working at odd hours in a spare bedroom, her bracelets jangling and her lace peignoir smeared with paint. It irritates her a bit when friends accuse her of painting in a deliberately "naive" way. "I do my best," she says earnestly. "I really...