Word: meant
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...British Government's hardest job last week was to convince Adolf Hitler that this time Britain means business, that when it signed a treaty last April to assist Poland in case of aggression it meant it. Even British cartoonists, like Middleton of the Birmingham Gazette, complained that the Nazis would pay no attention even to the direst warning a British statesman could give. Führer Hitler and his coterie obviously did not believe a word of it, and there were even non-Nazis who shared the Führer's skepticism. It was all very well...
...mending carts, sharpening scythes. In southern France, Italy, Russia, a decisive harvest began. A peasant army hundreds of thousands strong, strung out on a vast peaceful front from Siberia through France, was advancing by successive mobilizations as yellowing grainfields quickly ripened northward. To war-anxious Europe this peaceful mobilization meant a kind of armistice. For while peasants in uniform fight Europe's wars, they could hardly be set to fighting until they had got in the grain. And since even modern mechanized armies still travel on their stomachs, no nation could well afford to risk losing its grain supply...
...Charlotte, Branwell's death at 31 meant "the untimely, dreary extinction of what might have been a bright and shining light." Emily loved him most. "Drive me mad," she had prayed bitterly in Wuthering Heights, "but do not leave me in an abyss where I cannot find you." Her own death came twelve weeks after...
...writers (The Front Page, Let Freedom Ring, etc.), he forswore 15 months' salary to write it. (His movie salary is around $6,000 a week.) But for Hecht it was "fun writing what I want-without having Sam Goldwyn peering over my shoulder." Fun for Hecht has heretofore meant novels like Erik Dorn, Count Bruga, A Jew in Love-gaudy, swashbuckling, ranting books, splashed with dead-pan vehemence, a sort of Ouija-board mysticism, a little sour cream of human kindness-all with a suggestion of having been written by a slightly phoney, Dostoievskian pixy...
...every June, Vag has been joyously happy. The rebirth of nature's earth has been his rebirth too. Cupid, Puck, and Duty have fought for his attention, and he has reveled in their very battling. Once, so long ago, when he was a mewling prepster. June meant the end of another school year was near. It meant only that summer--an idyllic period of freedom and fun--approached. It meant a return to those hazy blue mountains which Vag loves...