Word: paled
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Currently, Harvard-provided lighting consists of oppressively pale fluorescent overheads. To say the least, this source of illumination is unacceptable. It would be impossible to read by it or to work at a computer by it. So, industrious as we Harvard students are, we have collectively moved to the best alternative, halogens (and no one has died either). The floor lamps (which we urge students not to buy at the Coop) can be purchased at Dickson Bros. and HSA for roughly $20, and they are an invaluable fixture in any dorm room...
...androgynous Shirley Temploids hold the long scroll format beautifully, with a fine sense of interval and grouping. With the big, delicate flowers and butterflies alternating with weird, cavernous landscapes, searchlight rays and puffs of rifle smoke, they are like a skewed version of Kate Greenaway's Victorian illustrations. The pale, blooming color is rarely less than inventive, and it can break out into a startling decorative richness--as in Two Spangled Blengins, showing a pair of dragons with striped and polka-dotted wings hovering protectively around a cutout of a little girl...
...Included were a charter to link Russia to the alliance, unilateral arms reductions and a joint NATO-Russian brigade for peacekeeping operations. "It is no longer us versus you or you versus us," she told a news conference. "We are on the same side." Albright later met with a pale and wan Boris Yeltsin, and told reporters that the ailing President seemed "on top of his game," "knowing exactly what he wanted to achieve," and fully up to meeting President Clinton for a March summit in Helsinki...
When the dead King Hamlet himself finally does appear, he wears pale blue contact lenses, which make him look more frightening than the smoke would suggest. But King Hamlet's unfortunate run-in with Bausch and Lomb makes little sense and loses its effect when the living King Hamlet appears during one of the many flashback montages later on--wearing the same lenses and looking just as ethereal and possessed as he did when dead...
Personally, I had no idea where yellow was going, but I knew where it had been. My bedroom. My foyer. And the master bath, even the guest room. In fact, a recent freshening of our apartment decor had left it awash in pale, burnished aureoles of ocher and flax and citron and other members of the yellow family, all of them, amazingly, on speaking terms. Having surrendered palette control to my spouse, who in turn capitulated to professional direction, I suddenly found myself surrounded by--and bonding with--a spectrum of hues I had always held in special contempt...