Word: paleness
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...Pale and grim, Sir Anthony Eden rose in the House of Commons at 4:35 one afternoon last week to announce the Anglo-French ultimatum to Israel and Egypt. When he had finished, the House was chill with silence, the Tories staring straight ahead with the rigidity of Guardsmen and the Laborites frozen to their seats in horror...
...feel that every decent-minded person should take up the cudgel against such infamy. Poking fun at Liberace is one thing, but when it goes to the extreme of criticizing the hallowed tradition of mother's love, it's beyond the pale. It would seem that anyone with the proper regard for the Good Neighbor policy would hesitate to fling insults at the judgment and good taste of millions of people of an allied country, who are devoted and ardent admirers of Liberace...
...Munich there was a butcher named Strauss who bought poultry from a breeder named Heinrich Himmler. Opposite the Strauss butchershop, at No. 50 Schellingstrasse, Heinrich Hoffmann owned a photographic shop; a frequent visitor was a pale man with a wispy mustache named Adolf Hitler, who wore a trench coat and nervously slapped his boots with a dog whip. A goggle-eyed witness of the spectacular rise of Hitler, Himmler & Co. was the butcher's stocky son, Franz Josef. Catching his son distributing Nazi propaganda one day, Butcher Strauss, a staunch Catholic, gave the boy a thrashing right there...
...Bald Soprano contrasts vividly with The Lady and Her Sources. Where Salinas had been ironic, Eugene Ionesco is abstruse, absurd, and abnormous. His "Anti-play" makes Waiting for Godot look pale and logical. Lines follow each other without connection, characters change identities, and the humor is always mixed with bewilderment. When there is logic, it is carried to such an extreme that it becomes ridiculous. Yet, every so often Ionesco shows us a glimmering of reality that other writers seldom uncover. InThe Bald Soprano the characters seem to say whatever comes to their minds--momentary antagonisms, sexual impulses, errant thoughts...
...almost completely lacking. When O'Neill wants to get a character off stage for any reason, the character just leaves, with nothing said about why he should. For another, the language is often pedestrian, particularly in those places when it is meant to soar as poetry. Yet these shortcomings pale nearly into insignificance in the light of the playwright's grand intention, which is at once to write a genuine tragedy and also to explain how his tragic view of life grew out of the problems of his own tortured family...