Word: peaches
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...that beer tray?" asks Darling. "Milwaukee, 1919. Over there on the closet door, that's an old lumber boat I saw off the coast. And over there, that's a peach tree we used to steal peaches from when we were kids. That's Barcelona, that's an old guy in Genoa, that there's Beirut...
...high school? When you read the pamphlet, what did you see? A violinist, a Merit Scholar or two, a Shakespeare expert? A poet, a biochemist, an aristocrat? Cultured young women, taking tea with the Galbraiths? Hornrimmed girls in dirty trenchcoats dotting the steps of Widener Library? The chocolate, peach and lime the CRIMSON warned of? Or Playboy's poll: "Cliffies are Merit Scholars who are good in bed" (thank God! the best of both worlds!). How could we know, when we packed our suitcases, packed those Villager skirts and shoes with matching pockerbooks, packed little dresses for the teas...
...conservation-to use its influence as a major coal buyer to control the surface miners' practices. The suit names the Kentucky Oak Mining Co. as TVA's principal supplier in eastern Kentucky. Although state reclamation officials have praised Kentucky Oak's efforts to plant apple and peach trees on stripped land and its experiments with terracing, successful reclamation is extremely difficult on the steep slopes. Indeed, residents have few kind words for the company. "They've destroyed the mountains," says Paul Ashley, a leading local opponent of surface mining. "They've destroyed the timber. They...
...wooden leg, brandishing his one frayed wing like a plucked and grumpy rooster. Other artists of Klee's time, a Bonnard or a Matisse, could and did summon up with a few brush strokes a whole universe of specific experiences-the golden, fuzzy weight of a peach, the glaze of china, the density and pink warmth of an odalisque's leg. Klee was not interested; he abstracted, and made ideograms. Botanical Theater, 1924-34, is aptly named, for the ceremonious dance of leaf and bloom, formal as an Islamic tile, stands to real plants as puppets...
Lacking the audacity to represent a naive childlike purity of faith, and incapable of the sophisticated myth-mocking irony of an Anouilh or a Giraudoux, Peter Stone rests his book, derived from Clifford Odets' The Flowering Peach, on the pitiably thin humor of anachronism. Except for one beguiling ballad, I Do Not Know a Day I Did Not Love You, Richard Rodgers' score is almost barren of melodic appeal, and Martin Charnin's lyrics could have been ticked off by a metronome...