Word: lights
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...recorded by Rose Kennedy. In it she says: "The President was born in a twin bed near the window on May 29, 1917, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. They always used the bed near the window, so if the baby were born in the daytime the light would be better for the doctor. Years later, when Jack was elected President, I thought how fortunate I was, out of all the mothers in the United States, to have my son inaugurated President on that cold, cold...
...generally have a free hand with aircraft while on the ground. But suddenly he pointed the plane's nose down the runway and took off. Though the plane normally requires a flight crew of four, Meyer seemed to know what he was doing. He had some experience piloting light planes, and worked some 500 hours on C-130s. Before takeoff, he had taken on enough fuel to fly for 15 hours-more than enough to get him across the Atlantic...
Pompidou, the banker, poet, and bon vivant, continued to go out of his way to picture himself, not very convincingly, as an ordinary Frenchman, a sort of Pompoher. "When I go through a red light," he told one audience, "I get tickets and pay them like everyone else. I know about domestic problems, the worries of the children and the dishes to be washed...
...wrote. "When the Catholic novelist closes his own eyes and tries to see with the eyes of the Church, the result is another addition to that large body of pious trash for which we have so long been famous." Instead, she consciously sought to use her belief as the light by which she saw, making her religion implicit in her vision rather than explicitly intrusive in her work. If the theme of redemption by Jesus Christ lay at the center of her work, this was simply because "what I see in the world I see in its relation to that...
What Davis is overwriting, it turns out, is a marvelous sort of flapdoodle that does not fit into any category that book-jacket haikuists can think of. The tall stories that Faulkner wrote when his mood was bourbon-light are in the same family; The Reivers bears a resemblance to Fools' Parade. Dark violence and piebald absurdity share an uncertain border, and now and then some mythmaker on his day off, like Grubb, manages to write within this uncertainty. A fine book, written for the hell of it, which is a splendid reason...