Word: pinked
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...lady Olivia, whom he serves as a kind of steward, is desperately in love with him. Bedford purses his lips as if his mouth were pickled in brine. He walks with the gravity of a frozen penguin. His mien alternates between a mask of hauteur and a tickled-pink grin of uncontainable self-adulation. As an actor, he takes the treacherous gamble of playing directly to the audience and makes it pay off in total delight...
Flying in after the NATO summit in Brussels and a brief stopover in Madrid to visit Generalissimo Francisco Franco, Ford was lodged in Schloss Klessheim, an 18th century baroque chateau with a pink façade. Sadat, eager to size up Ford but unwilling to visit Washington until there is more progress toward peace with Israel, stayed at the elegant, 525-year-old Schloss Fuschl, a hunting lodge...
...ticket and platform of a second party could be really different, eventually it might come to that. But the only other platform will be Communism. What could another party offer? Less, yes; more, no. We have really attained the fringes of the most advanced socialism without its pink color. Everybody will have a share, enough for a decent kind of living. The big fortunes will be taxed more and more. But you cannot prevent differences in any society, Communist or nonCommunist. We are doing more than any other country I know, without being pinkish. Until now we could not afford...
...looked like the aftermath of a Three Stooges pie-throwing party. The sun was making headway against all the stickiness, washing it smooth with the pale glow of pink lemonade. You hardly notice skies around Cambridge: all spring means is that you pick your eyes up from the slush and mud puddles and occasional faces where they've rested all winter, and look at the trees now and then. But when you're on a ship in the South Atlantic the sky makes your whole world because it blends with the sea out there at infinity. You become...
...location on a point of land, with an island sheltering the bay, you see sunrises over the bay and sunsets over the ocean. And they're always beautiful. At sunrise on the ship's last morning in Luanda, the water in the bay shimmered like smooth aluminum foil watercolored pink and orange. But the source of the shimmer was soon painfully evident: an oil film, produced by the anchored ships, spread over the entire...