Word: marooned
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...days before the fight, Muhammad Ali sprawled on the couch of his 29th-floor Las Vegas hotel suite. His eyes were closed, the great, graceful body quiet under a maroon-and-white bathrobe. His 18-month-old daughter's doll lay near by, and from the next room came the laughter of his third wife, Veronica, and another daughter. The room filled gradually with relatives, gym figures, musicians, sycophants, friends. His dietician entered, carrying a bushel bag of carrots. The champ suddenly clucked. Everyone jumped. This sound of a popping champagne cork is Ali's command signal...
Perpich's hair has grayed noticeably in the year since he became Governor, and he blames the power dispute. Says he: "This is the hard one." To enforce the law as interpreted by the courts, he has sent some 150 maroon-jacketed highway patrolmen into Pope County to protect work crews. More than 40 farmers have been arrested, for interfering with construction. Perpich has proposed the creation of a "science court" that would have-no legal status but would assess the line's potential dangers, if any, to the health of the farmers, their crops and their livestock...
...Cell. In one chapter Selzer defines the heart as "purest theatre . . . throbbing in its cage palpably as any nightingale. It quickens in response to our emotions. And all the while we feel it, hear it, even - we, its stage and its audience." The liver is that "great maroon snail," of whose existence one is hardly aware until it malfunctions. "No wave of emotion sweeps it. Neither music nor mathematics gives it pause in its appointed tasks." The author is as wry and bemused when he describes bones, the digestive tract or a kidney stone, "this small piece of gravel...
...famished Lions accordingly greeted the Crimson quintet that invaded Levien Gymnasium like a rare and refreshing maroon morsel of manna...
...about the corruption of his regime, and she lured Secretary of State Henry Kissinger into describing himself as a lone gunslinger on a horse. She is Oriana Fallaci, 45, world-roving and world-renowned practitioner of the clawing interview. A small and frenetic figure in slacks and a faded maroon corduroy jacket, she swept into her Rome office from an Athens flight one recent morning, dumped her suitcases on the floor, answered a number of telephone calls (sometimes two at once), ordered a glass of Fernet Branca. Then she turned to TIME'S Jordan Bonfante and submitted herself...