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Word: pleasant (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1940-1949
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Usage:

...appalling," grumbled H. G. Wells, "that this blinkered, pleasant, gossipy, gullible snob," Sir Samuel Hoare should be named British Ambassador to Spain. Wells was not the only one to wince. The nauseous memory of the Hoare-Laval Deal to appease Mussolini (1935) was still fresh. That of the Hitler-sweetening at Munich was even fresher. In 1940 Britain needed someone to talk straight, not sweet, to Spain's Franco. Sir Samuel hardly seemed the man. He had passed "from experience to experience, like Boccaccio's virgin," said a wag, "without discernible effect upon his condition...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Fat, Smug, Complacent | 1/27/1947 | See Source »

Rohmer would not stay there. "I shall spend most of my time in the south of France," said he. "It's much more pleasant there. Conditions in England are shocking, just shocking...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: People: Movers & Shakers | 1/20/1947 | See Source »

Fortunately, there are some nice dances, pleasant tunes, and funny ditties to get it on the wing again. The best of the tunes...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Theater: New Musicals in Manhattan, Jan. 20, 1947 | 1/20/1947 | See Source »

...another. Yet Producer Mark (The Killers) Hellinger and his colleagues have provided a good many compensations. The town's "class" bar and company picnic, and most of the-supporting performances, are unusually shrewd keyhole glimpses of U.S. provincial life. Sonny Tufts's transformation from a big, pleasant male ingenue to a resourceful actor is as impressive as it is startling. With plenty of assistance from script and direction, Tufts gives a cruelly recognizable portrait of a neurotic extravert: a type all too common in real life and all too rarely seen-through on the screen...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Cinema: New Picture, Jan. 20, 1947 | 1/20/1947 | See Source »

...Paris, comfortably settled in a small apartment, where her nephew, Raymond Clerisse, a young French lawyer, sometimes dropped in for an apéritif. One day Marga had an especially pleasant visit from Raymond. As he was going, she pressed a small piece of candy into his mouth. "Merci," said Raymond and departed. Later he was seized with fearful cramps. He had just enough strength to scribble on the back of a métro ticket: "The candy Marga gave me tasted strange." A few days later he was dead. Police called on Marga, but soon dropped the case...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: FRANCE: Murder, My Pet? | 1/13/1947 | See Source »

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