Word: palely
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...Angeles. Set by the sea, it was ringed and scored by hills, pitted with valleys, scaled with patches of desert. Its vegetation was alarmingly bizarre: palm trees reared up jaggedly, scruffy heads balancing precariously on long puny trunks; huge crepe-y hibiscus opened scentless blooms like red mouths; moon-pale magnolia flowers mingled their perfume with that of bougainvillea growing in thick purple mats over whitewashed walls--sickly sweet, heavy, overpowering. Disasters plagued the place: in summer, the hillsides grew dry as dust and would explode in flames, the fires often raging for days; in winter, rain came in torrents...
Sometimes a face will swim up out of the gloom, pale, frightening and familiar--a star--and you are turned to stone before your own image. The jolt of recognition; it is not for him, but for that self of yours that he has incarnated, that large other you that has blazed up so often in the dark before your tiny, fascinated gaze. But most of the faces in the gloom are anonymous and alike in their intensity. Even the ones who seem idle, the dozens who, as you draw closer to the center of activity, you notice lounging...
...will. And in many ways, it was strangely beautiful. Even now, if you look beyond the gray tangle of freeways, past the checkered patterns of tract houses, through the brown veil of smog even now, some of the beauty remains. In the dawn, the air is pale and still; only the eucalyptus trees stir, their leaves flickering silver high up in the new light. With the sun warm at your back, you can look to the east and see snow glinting white on the distant mountains. At dusk, the hills lie gentled, their smoke-blue folds growing slowly deeper with...
...1960s, Winchell's old red-baiting, petty spats and breathless reports of hatchicks with beyootiful stems began to pale. Indeed, the whole genre of gossipmongers was falling victim to the permissive times. As one pressagent lamented, "Nobody's shocked any more." The syndicated outlets for his column fell from a onetime high of nearly 1,000 to slightly more than 100. With press card tucked in his gray, snap-brim fedora as of old, Winchell still occasionally turned up at the scene of a major story, but the old fire was gone. "Yes, by Christ," he said...
...ambition and cruelty of the Shakespeare an creation, but there is none of the self-doubt. A whole vital dimension, the fear of personal failure, is lost to the character. Finch's Macbeth is finally adolescent--petulant, introverted, guilt-ridden. Similarly, Francesca Annis's Lady Macbeth is pale and lovely sentimental; not cold-blooded, hardly monstrous. In an early central scene, her persuasion of Macbeth to the regicide--the sexual taunts of the Shakespeare are replaced with tears. The two are here more Romeo and Juliet than Macbeth and his Lady, and FrancescaAnnis more a product of the Hefnerian, than...