Word: mouths
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1970-1979
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...side of the road. Every time a campesino passes by there on the way to his field, he throws another stone on the pile, so that the devil will stay away." The padre took a long sip of beer from the glass on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Or their custom of spilling out some of their drink before they have any of it to give thanks to Pachamamma, their Mother Earth. It's left over from their pagan beliefs...
...acknowledged. As for the lady chasing the Republican gubernatorial nomination this year-Mrs. Dorothy Lawson McCall, 85-she promised support for most of her son's record. She has assured him that she will continue his innovative environmental programs but will avoid "putting my foot in my mouth"-a reference to the Governor's outspokenness. McCall said that any discouragement from him "would only spur her on," and sat back to watch the other candidates struggle with the motherhood issue. As for Mrs. McCall, she is campaigning at her own pace. When a reporter arrived at her Portland...
...many enemies lists. Unlike most press scolds, who tend to ignore social trivia for headier political game, Frazier has anchored his reputation by roasting the large and the small with equal flair. He regularly assaults national institutions like Howard Cosell ("commits a public disturbance every time he opens his mouth"). But he also stalks such Main Street game as deer hunters ("revolting humanoids") and people who call up radio talk shows ("idiots who elude their keepers long enough to get to a phone...
...oven. The man, very small and with a rough wizened face, had walked up to within a few yards of me and stopped, his wooden hoe in hand. I indicated the peanuts in my hand. He broke into a broad smile, and pointed with his free hand to his mouth. He had no teeth. What could I do in such a situation? I nodded slightly, muttered "Le siento," I'm sorry, and moved...
...took from his pocket a small cup, on which he blew to remove any dust that may have accumulated, and then dipped it into the urn. It was chicha. The padre took the glass and downed the chicha in a gulp. The taste of the liquor in my mouth turned my stomach, but there was no escaping it. El amigo del padre has to join in too if he did not want to be rude. So I took the glass, spilled a little out in the customary Quechua gesture of thanks to Pachamamma, or Mother Earth, closed my eyes...