Word: musee
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...cigars, we gentlemen strolled into the drawing-room, disposed ourselves variously and engaged the ladies in what passes at such gatherings for conversation. There came, as there always comes, when celebrated authors, statesmen and clerics are present, a lull. Leaning negligently against the mantelpiece, I seized the occasion to muse audibly, 'I have a superior brain, but'-and I pointed dramatically to a corner of the room-'there sits the greatest living writer in England.' The man I designated was the Very Rev. William Ralph Inge, Dean of St. Paul...
Thus warbled the muse of Gilbert & Sullivan in the great Gladstonian days of Liberalism.* But Fate, snickering, was even then implanting a new virus, "Laboritis," in the babes. Two infants, born to Conservative parents at the close of the Gladstonian era, grew up to political manhood, and last week vitally vexed their sires...
...poetic and religious ecstasy. To date he has completed his cycle of dramas "L'Arbre (The Tree of Life), dealing with the soul's emergence from the mundane, and has topped this dramatic Comedie Humaine with his Hy nines and Cinque Grandes Odes, poems in which the muse of religious devotion seems at times to be raving in a delirium...
...these merits is taste. This age like all others has many writers of verse, many creative minds in literature. Unfortunately, too few of these men possess in addition to their native ability, the mental poise which disallows the indiscretions of mediocrity. Not content to pray to their own muse, they wantonly and with an often unintelligent iconoclasm destroy the temples of other muses. Such men, obviously, cannot stride the twin steeds of Pegasus and Propriety. Nor is this an ability remote from greatness. Bulls in so many china shons, they are often futile in conversation and vulgar...
...have come to Senator Cummins when he read the news of his defeat, eyes were strained from studying long documents, his face was lined, his hair was white; he was 76-but now he would retire to the quiet home of his two spinster sisters, sleep long and sound, muse over his glorious days, write his autobiography. One evening last week he dined with a Des Moines banker, told him with unaccustomed zeal of the vivid political scenes which would appear in his book...