Word: pondered
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There were even a few moments to ponder the uncertain course of 1975. No clear sentiment, no firm directions for America had emerged, no towering leaders or definitive events. Perhaps it was summed up, as Washington's jovial Richard Scammon suggested, in the conflicting statistics from the pollsters. Above all, it was a year in which Viet Nam and Watergate ended, a time of transition from an anguished era to a future not yet clearly discerned...
...doctoral student at the Graduate School of Education. Along the way I took a few years off to be a youthworker (as a Conscientious Objector), hop freights, write for the Phoenix, learn carpentry at an industrial school, work with radical political groups, and generally ponder the state of the country and of my soul. Returning to Harvard in 1974, I thought I noticed a drop in temperature which wasn't "just me." If it would be presumptuous to preach or speak for others, perhaps I can at least share some impressions to see if they resonate at all. They boil...
Eventually, cracks appeared in the Administration's monolithic resistance. Federal Reserve Chairman Arthur Burns expressed growing anxiety; Vice President Nelson Rockefeller broke with the President and urged aid to the city. Even hard-line Treasury Secretary William Simon quietly began to ponder a plan for assistance. Some give was also apparent on the other side. Carey and his financial advisers, who gained great power over the city, ordered deeper cuts in the city budget and girded for an epic battle over a tax increase. The Governor had to overcome the opposition of upstate Republicans in the legislature as well...
Sitting upright in a large wooden chair, she can see the vegetable garden sprawled three stories below her. When she reaches a stand-still in her writing, she will sometimes ponder the remains of life in the garden--or she will turn from the window and pace slowly around the large room. But she is a disciplined woman who leads a supremely organized life, and she does not spend much time pacing and gazing, even when afflicted with writers block. She will simply walk toward a little doorway in the far corner, pass through a tiny bathroom, and emerge...
...then enclosed us. They had directions in which they were traveling, and positions to which they would return. I wouldn't have called them especially happy, but they were certainly complacent; they were, with an exception or two, contented enough, or perhaps not dissatisfied enough, to alter or even ponder the course of their existence. Still, they envied us a little; and in the whimsical moments that will sometimes overtake those who have solemnly embarked on their life's work, they'd tell us how lucky we were to be still exercising choices, we whose paths were not yet marked...