Word: printed
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...parvenU. Two years ago, he formulated Hall's Law, which states that "the higher a person's social position, the more names he's likely to have (e.g., Sir Reginald Aylmer Ranfurly Plunketty-Earnle-Earle-Drax)." Delving further into the small print of Debrett's Peerage, Hall emerged with another proposition, published last week with a statistical breakdown in Town magazine. Hall's Second Law: "Proneness to divorce increases in direct ratio to position in the social scale...
Aggie talks tough, works hard and lives simply to stay on top of her job. She is at her desk by 4 a.m. and in bed by sundown, having spent eleven rapid hours coaching reporters, manning her battery of phones, shepherding stories into print. "I demand loyalty, hard work, enterprise -and above all, no lying," she says sternly. "If a reporter is off on a bender while working, I want him to tell me so I can protect him, the story and the paper...
...time of William Faulkner was long enough for his work to be read, misread, raged at and, for a long while, largely forgotten. By 1945 not one of his novels was in print in the U.S. Neglect suited Faulkner well enough; he was a shy man, and as indifferent to the reception of his work as it is possible for an artist to be. But before long, reporters were straining his Southern civility. The praise of a few perceptive U.S. critics had stirred interest in Europe, and in 1950 Faulkner received the Nobel Prize. By last week, when William Faulkner...
...Hill estate found themselves bobbing, fully clad in the moonlit swimming pool fortnight ago, no one worried about the dozen reporters who were present. Each was a trusted insider who could be counted on to remain discreetly silent. But four days later news of the soggy soiree was in print across the nation. As might have been expected, the byline belonged to Betty Beale, 50, society columnist for the Washington Star...
...teatime, the black family limousine rolled up to the White House portal, and a tanned Mamie Eisenhower, in a mottled print dress, alighted for her first homecoming in a year and a day. "Hello, Bruce," said the former First Lady to the doorman. She hailed a covey of capital newspaperwomen, then shook hands with her hostess Jackie, ashimmer in a green shantung sheath. After a peek at the refurbished Red Room, Mamie sat down in the Oval Room over raspberry tarts and tea with seven other senior leaguers working on a $30 million drive for the National Culture Center, hopefully...