Word: paled
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...triumphal comeback for a fourth term as Burma's Premier, roly-poly U Nu put on the saffron robes of a Buddhist monk and retired into a monastery outside Rangoon for four days' silent contemplation. Then, wrapped again in his traditional, pale blue longyi and looking uncommonly mellow for the rough old campaigner he is, U Nu stepped last week before a Parliament in which his Union Party had won a thumping two-thirds majority in last February's elections, and proclaimed: "We are determined not to repeat the mistakes of the past...
Still looking pale and sickly after major abdominal surgery (TIME, March 28), British Laborite Aneurin Bevan, 62, issued assurances that he has no plans to write his memoirs, then took a spirited swipe at those who so much as read that sort of thing. He singled out a favorite target: Britain's Tory Prime Minister Harold Macmillan. Said Bevan: "I understand that Macmillan reads political biographies. I have never been able to achieve that credulity. My experience of public life has taught me to know that most of them are entirely unreliable. I would rather take my fiction straight...
...modern-angled political morality play, it yet never forgets that bad politics make good theater, that stage tricks pale beside political ones...
...mistakes" before the Moscow Central Committee late in 1958, the local zealots in Stavropol apparently kept calling him an enemy of the state. According to a story passed by the Moscow censors, Bulganin appealed to Khrushchev, who suggested that Bulganin retire on a pension. At 64, a pale shadow of the jovial, rotund figure who represented his country at the 1955 Geneva summit meetings, Bulganin now lives on a $300-a-month pension on the outskirts of Moscow, of which in his time he was mayor, an ailing and disgraced man who had once been wartime boss of Soviet industry...
...late Nevil Shute took characters of clay and left them shod with steel. Keith Stewart, hero of Shute's posthumous novel, Trustee from the Toolroom, is unassuming to the point of extinction. Keith is past his prime, hard up, pastily pale and running a little to fat. In an ugly mortgaged home in the London suburb of West Baling, he shares teatime monosyllables with his dumpily comfortable wife Katie. Yet Keith is not a nonentity...