Word: manly
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Shades of Dunkirk. Explained one of his lieutenants: "The Old Man's dead against showing too much target for them to attack us. Instead, he's set on seeking out the cracks in their armor and probing home his steel wherever he can penetrate." In accordance with their platform, The Right Road for Britain (which has sold 2½ million copies since it was published last summer-TIME, Aug. 1), the Tory leaders called for a reduction of taxes and government spending, promised they would keep Labor's social services but manage them less wastefully, would halt...
...wrote the gentle essayist Charles Lamb, in phrases ardent as a lover's whisper, "is no less provocative of the appetite, than he is satisfactory to the criticalness of the censorious palate. The strong man may batten on him, and the weakling refuseth not his mild juices...
...have always recognized," Dr. Summerskill told a Market Research Society meeting in London, "that there is one thing the British housewife longed for, and that was to get back to bacon & eggs. I am sure," she admitted, "that every man here longs for a nice big juicy steak." But such yearnings, she insisted, were in reality nothing but an anachronistic hangover from the days of arrant capitalism when "meat was an index of prosperity," when men "ate steaks [because] it was the thing to do, like wearing a white stiff collar . . ." Enlightened Socialism "had established new feeding habits showing themselves...
...come. There would be two plain-clothes men, with a list of names supplied by the Ministry of the Interior, and a uniformed cop. They would ask for the head of the family (or perhaps a grown son). All they would say in answer to questions was that the man was to come with them and that he should bring warm clothes. Before they left they would take the license and papers of his car, and they would type a sample of his typewriter...
...father, the late Hadji Mehmet, was the most important and feared man of the district. Galloping horsemen slowed down when they passed our house at dawn so as not to wake Hadji Mehmet. Roosters crowed in the name of Hadji Mehmet. But even he died. Nothing is forever. When I was a child, there were seven of us in the village who went to school to learn to read and write from the hoca. I was the richest of the seven, and all I had was my dress and a pair of red slippers. Today even I am not satisfied...