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Word: odorized (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...Odor of Courage. What "they," i.e., two big black bulls, do to Pacote and what he does with them is the climax but not the core of Barnaby Conrad's Matador, a novel about bullfighting fine enough to share the shelf with Tom Lea's The Brave Bulls (TIME, April 25, 1949). Like Ernest Hemingway, whose hard-packed style accents every sentence in Matador, Novelist Conrad is steeped in the classic ritual of the corrida. (In 1945, at 23, he shared an afternoon's billing in the Seville ring with his tutor, famed Juan Belmonte...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Afternoon of an Old Pro | 6/30/1952 | See Source »

...example, is supposed to be the finest of her kind in the world. She is supposed to be the quintessence of feminine charm. What do advertisers say about her on the radio, on television? I shall put it as gently as I can. She suffers from dandruff, from body odor, from halitosis. I could...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Radio: Plugs for BBC | 6/23/1952 | See Source »

...left with her title of Foreign Minister, and was even allowed to sit on the ministers' bench one day last week while the National Assembly awarded the premiership of Red Rumania to her archrival, Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej.* But, no doubt about it, she was in bad odor...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: RUMANIA: Ana on the Slippery Slope | 6/16/1952 | See Source »

...grave problems of our world, at least one of them, in an effort to ennoble the discussion, will begin talking of the Good, the True . . . After having heard the term 'freedom of thought' mentioned for the 54th time, a stale smell gradually invades the room, an odor which reminds me of fried fish. Discussions about Freedom are bound to remain sterile, unless we take this word down from its high pedestal and place it on a more humble, concrete basis . . . the freedom to leave one's country, the freedom to listen to any radio program one chooses...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: People: Time & Tides | 6/9/1952 | See Source »

Last week Smith Grant was winding up his busiest season since the war at Glenlivet Distillery, which stands on a brae overlooking a fertile Banffshire valley in the heart of the Highlands. Black peat smoke belched from the distillery's tall chimney, and the pungent odor of fermenting barley drifted from its odd-shaped kiln towers. Glenlivet's 50 workers, completing their biggest distilling season in seven years, processed the last batches of whisky before the annual summer shutdown. In the three summer months, the tumbling mountain springs which rise 1,200 feet above the glen...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: LIQUOR: The Quintessence | 5/26/1952 | See Source »

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