Word: melt
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When the sun finally began to melt the snow on the third day, the delegates had shown a powerful discontent with the Administration. Veterans of student politics and service organizations took the lead in marshaling the more naive and confused participants. Said the preamble of the conference's report: "We are not motivated by hatred, but by disappointment over and love for the unfulfilled potential of this nation." Republican Senator Bill Brock. 40, one of two overridden adult members of the task force that drafted the preamble, immediately called the rhetoric "masochistic, negative, nonproductive and not representative of American...
...just out of rage but out of utter contempt that I berated your marshmallow revolutionaries in the foulest terms I could. I was ready for any consequences but obviously, despite their numbers, they were only putting on a show in the hope that we on the podium would melt in fear. They were wrong because unlike some campus revolutionaries who hide out at Harvard we come from the real world. Another alternative would have been to engage us in meaningful dialogue, but of course, that's too bourgeois for these brave vanguard marshmallow revolutionaries...
...grant a permit tomorrow." In a recent statement, the U.S. Interior Department declared that the alternate Canadian route would "serve mainly to shift the location of ecological problems rather than cure them." Both routes would disturb wildlife, and both confront permafrost. Hot oil, piped through this frozen ground, might melt the land around it, causing the pipe to sag and break-tarring huge areas with toxic crude...
...Lost so often that she can sleepwalk her way through the part, but she is too much of a trouper not to do it beautifully. Nancy Marchand is as flinty as the Maine coast. As a visiting fellow teacher, Rae Allen is a delightful vulgarian, and lard would not melt in her mouth. Top honors go to Estelle Parsons, caustically jovial, slapping her consonants with the back of her tongue, and looping about her housely chores while knocking back the gin and nibbling raw hamburger hidden in a Fanny Farmer box. Vote her the girl you would most like...
Ruminating about the difficulties of transposing life into art, Updike wrote, "From the dew of the few flakes that melt on our faces we cannot reconstruct the snowstorm." He is wrong, really, for this artless book obliquely manages to re-create the emotional blizzard that made him into an artist...