Word: moments
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...forget for a moment, though it is a difficult thing to do, that the author is striving constantly for a style entirely modernistic and subjective you may enjoy these flights of his into the realm of the mental processes. In any case you must road him in small doses in order to properly appreciate his achievement...
...curate at Manhattan's Calvary Church until 1928 when he went to Salem's Grace Church. He is 36, married, father of three. No delegate to General Convention, he went to the missionary rally on his own, started the money-giving stampede on the spur of the moment. Declining afterwards to pose for photographs, he said: "There are people who may misinterpret the incident and have an idea that it was done with some thought of publicity." Nevertheless the evangelical fervor which he aroused was heartening to General Convention members who were worrying about finance. True, the Everyman...
...children, the girls in white frocks and veils, the boys in white dusters, marched down four wide avenues to the great cross. There at the four altars four scarlet-robed Cardinals celebrated mass. Well-drilled, the 110,000 moppets rose, genuflected and crossed themselves in unison. When the moment came to partake of the consecrated wafer, 300 priests and monks distributed it in the vast crowd. Impressed by this gigantic act of faith, Cardinal Pacelli exclaimed: "This is heaven!" Afterwards, efficient nuns briskly served the children with hot chocolate and cakes. When the four Cardinals beheld this, they too wished...
...blessings of the patter of little feet must be responsible for the damage done by little hands or, as in the case here, by little teeth," ruled that Mr. & Mrs. Bruce Butterworth were not liable for the action of their 3-year-old daughter Eva Camille who, in a "moment of rage," bit the arm of her Negro nurse...
...said it was easy; he had been doing it for years. He was not a Communist. I asked, and he said he was not. He was more afraid of me than I of him. His name was not Jones; he could think of no other at the moment. My question startled him, and his mouth fell open, increasing the horror of his face, the dirty beard, the haunted eyes, the filth, and the very long lower teeth. I felt great love for him, even though he was ugly with the vilest ugliness of man, ghastly sexual ugliness: anger, amazement...