Word: mortality
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None of this was mentioned, however, when the Daily Worker made public the fact of his expulsion by the state board of the New York Communist Party. The Worker detailed his sins. Most mortal: fighting the Party's present "political and tactical line." Then, as usual in such cases, came a little character assassination: "In 1934, because of personal conduct unbecoming a member of our Party . . . he was removed from leadership. His degeneracy has proceeded so far that he could not be saved...
...There is no mortal marriage," said the groom, "in the kingdom that I mean united as one family and as one nation indivisible. I mean that this is not a matter of a sample for everybody. . . . But those that are living according to my teaching, they are redeemed from self indulgence and sex indulgence, human affection, lust and passion and all those detestable tendencies...
...anthology is rich in attempts of mortal man to express the inexpressibles of religious experience. One of the best is Convert Gilbert Keith Chesterton's The Convert...
...Cross girls descended, pawed over 250 corpses so decomposed that they were no longer horrible. They called to men with notebooks: "One handkerchief marked with a K, one pair of glasses." Then, enthusiastically, "Here is his passport, his name is Piotr Kowalski." In another trench was all that was mortal of Mieczyslaw Niedzialkowski, a Warsaw Socialist editor who had loved strong argument and strong drink and who, in 1939, had organized the workers' brigades that helped defend his city. Last week the workmen built him a little coffin and laid a few flowers...
...tells the story of a phony spiritualist who, in the midst of a seance she has rigged, finds a cold hand clutching at her throat. The audience never finds out if her assailant is mortal or ectoplasmic, but it sees a first-rate flagellation and a ghostly murder before the curtain rings down. Every word of Menotti's English libretto had the merit of being understandable, and some of the atmospheric horror music was more blood-curdling than Puccini...