Word: limpidness
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Jones with music by Debussy" . . . "as if Proust had rewritten The Arabian Nights" . . . "Don Quixote with a dash of Jane Austen" . . . fortunately the ancient Japanese document is no such mongrel monstrosity as all of this. But the reviewers' floundering tributes indicate something of its variegated appeal. In limpid prose The Tale combines curiously modern social satire with great charm of narrative. Translator Waley has done service to literature in salvaging to the Occident this masterpiece of the Orient written circa...
...lady and her well known sparring partner sisters under their respective skins, so does a stroll along the banks of the Charles reveal things which one never thought possible in this dear Cambridge. On a hot day, such as was the rare fortune yesterday, the upper reaches of the limpid stream resembled the Lido and Bailey's Beach more than a dignified and usually deserted river. Young Cambridge and a liberal assortment of canines disported themselves in the intriguing and unanalyzed waters, making whoopee all around Stillman and transforming Lief Ericson's monument into an apparatus for achieving that dark...
Berlin: The Symphony of a Big City. Here is a film without plot, without subtitles. A pool of limpid water is transformed into a mechanistic ripple like the swift succession of a hundred thousand railroad ties. A train shoots out of the country and into BERLIN in hard, square letters. It is 5 a. m. A sheet of newspaper flutters in the gutter of an empty street. A cat creeps across the sidewalk. On another street a man tacks up a sign. Four revelers waddle home, one of them dragging a balloon. Shutters go up. A factory gate rolls open...
...than the advent of the spring vacation-now for once the Easter vacation-and the completion of the first batch of April hours. O custom, what crime are committed in thy name! And then yesterday afternoon, as the Vagabond was wandering along the sylvan banks of the limpid, winding Charles-somewhere up near Watertown, just this side of the abattoir-wandering be it said with no ulterior purpose but perhaps with a lurking desire to see a burnished dove and prove the business about the newer iris and all the rest of it, he felt that indeed...
...light fog clung to the flat, glassy sea between Ambrose Light and Fire Island, N. Y. Captain Maurice Aubert had just ordered a change in course, and for a horrid second, thought he had run aground when the France, with nothing but a limpid swell around her, listed with violent suddenness. Captain Aubert remembered his soundings of a moment before and knew the France could not possibly have touched bottom. This flash of certainty was verified as the ship's sudden list reversed itself, became a sharp roll. Looking overside, Captain Aubert beheld the sea in a cold boil...