Word: one-man
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...great merit of Duggan's Caesar is that he is not a tailor's dummy draped in a thesis. Professional historians from Tacitus to Mommsen have cloaked Caesar in dissertations about one-man power, the Roman constitution, and the pros and cons of emperors and empires. On the other hand, Duggan feels no need to give Caesar a coating of grease paint so he can strut the stage. Author Duggan has grasped the elusive obvious, that great men are measured by heritage, not histrionics. As Duggan sees it, Caesar's enduring heritage was divided into three parts...
...varsity has played a non-Dexter Lewis game this year, yesterday was it. Eight men tallied, in the most even Crimson attack of the year, showing that the squad is developing the coordination it has lacked. It was definitely not a one-man team that won yesterday, as it has been during the season...
...local reporting where deadline pressure was not a factor, Roland Kenneth Towery of the Cuero (Texas) Record, for his series on Texas land scandals (TIME, March 7); for local reporting under deadline pressure, Mrs. Caro Brown of the Alice (Texas) Daily Echo, for a series on one-man political rule in the state's Duval County (TIME, Feb. 15, 1954); for editorial writing, the Detroit's Free Press's Royce Howes, for an editorial on the responsibility of labor and management in an unauthorized U.A.W. strike against Chrysler; for cartooning, St. Louis Post-Dispatch Cartoonist Daniel...
...years, which, he now feels, he spent largely "accumulating powers, as in a reservoir, so they could be used later." Back in Vienna after war's end, Wotruba became director of the sculpture school at Austria's Academy of Fine Arts, in 1952 had a one-man show at the Venice Biennale. To his students Wotruba insists: "The artist must answer the question-why do I live? This provokes the answer: art is an attempt to justify human existence. Whether it's beautiful or ugly doesn't matter. Art still has to prove that human existence...
Chekhov was himself a portable sickroom, a walking one-man plague. At 24, he coughed blood for the first time, heralding the tuberculosis that would kill him 20 years later. In letter after letter, he issued bulletins on "my phlebitis in the left leg," on palpitations of the heart ("Every minute my heart stops for several seconds and does not beat"), on hemorrhoids ("a vile, despicable malady"), and even recognized the psychosomatic nature of some of his ailments. ("My intestinal catarrh left me the moment I left Uncle's. Evidently the odor of sanctity has a weakening effect...