Word: portrait
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...Arlington Robinson, he could draw a map of New York City, showing the location of every free lunch counter. One of his good friends was John Butler Yeats, the painter, father of William Butler Yeats. The old man lectured to him on the value of idleness, painted a fine portrait of him that now hangs over the fireplace of his house in Westport, and told him the one most important thing he had learned in life: "How good people are." In 1911, in Carmel, Calif., he married charming Eleanor Kenyon, who bore him two sons (one is now a naval...
...franc note (see cut). It's one of the cleverest methods of subtle noncollaboration I can imagine. The French people who gave it to me said that millions of these were circulating around while the Germans were here. . . . The effect is produced by inserting a German postage-stamp portrait of Hitler behind the French fisherman's rope...
...said it had not made up its mind yet. But it was firm on the rest of its bans. Army post exchanges may not sell British newspapers. The PXs may not even sell the Air Forces' own Official Guide (525,000 copies printed)-it has an execrable portrait of Franklin Roosevelt as a frontispiece. These were added last week to a suppress list which already includes such "dangerous" intellectual weapons as Charles Beard's The Republic and Catherine Drinker Bowen's biography of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Yankee from Olympus (TIME, May 8).* Any of these, said...
Presidential Portrait. Author Busch, who believes that the truth is generally obvious, re-examines the facts of Mr. Roosevelt's life from the viewpoint of an amateur and humane psychoanalyst. What emerges is a friendly and convincing portrait of a man whose paramount drives are a love of people and excitement, a dislike of friction and contradiction. He is "a good but not a very wise man; vain, captious, overconfident and warmhearted; no more honest than most, but friendlier than the average; courageous but at the same time . . . not totally without a certain somewhat meretricious grandeur...
With the tense haste of a man who knew it was now or never, Stanislaw Mikolajczyk summoned his Cabinet. In a paneled drawing room at No. 18 Kensington Palace Gardens, under a staring portrait of late great Premier Wladislaw Sikorski, apostle of Russo-Polishrapprochement, the ministers listened to the news. President Wladislaw Raczkiewicz, a diehard Russophobe, rose theatrically, said coldly: "I wash my hands of this." Then he stalked out. But his colleagues stayed on for hours of bitter but subdued talk...