Word: lies
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...filled them with diseases by sorcery. . . . When the birds passed over our homes at Bordeaux (500 miles away) they caused to grow poisonous mushrooms of lascivious shape and noxious odor, which gave us shameful diseases in various forms." The Abbé des Noyers boomed: "That is a frightful lie!" The other male defendant, one Henri Froger, was called: "The Abbé afflicted me likewise with shameful diseases. . . . We did not mean to kill him but only to defend our Sainted Mother Marie, whose statue of the Blessed Virgin now weeps* night and day. . . . We await such punishment...
Between Indiana and Philadelphia lie some 600 miles of fat midlands, coal-seamed Alleghanies and factory-dotted coastal plains. It is a tedious train trip; wise people take the sleeper. By automobile it is more pleasant; the roads are excellent and through the Pennsylvania mountains there are gorgeous views. But best of all is to fly it. Then you can soar above the farmlands, circle and behold the cities like great wens on the face of nature, swoop up and over the mountains, dallying if you like on the long downward slant to peer off east to the continent...
...Shelley and Byron, recovered and cremated the former's body off Leghorn (it was he who snatched Shelley's heart from the pyre and buried it in Rome), fought beside Byron in Greece (it was he who investigated the dead Byron's feet and spread the lie about a cloven hoof), married a Greek chieftain's sister, suffered terrible wounds, corresponded devotedly with Mary Shelley. He later wrote Recollections of the Last Days of Byron and Shelley, an invaluable document. He visited the U. S., swimming Niagara between the rapids and the falls. He bought English...
...Electra" and the brave "Teteléstai": I am no King, have laid no kingdoms waste, Taken no princes captive, led no triumphs Of weeping women through long watts of trumpets; Say, rather, I am no one or an atom. . . . . . . Well, what then? Should I not hear, as I lie down in dust, The horns of glory blowing above my burial...
There, beside the solemnities, perhaps the somnolence, of education lie, not only mirror, puff, and vanity case but shaving brush and lotion--and, one hopes, a porcelain mug labelled "Papa...