Word: pungently
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...everyone knows, possesses 28 U. S. newspapers. His public is composed, he slogans, of 20 million people?"People Who Think." Whenever he is moved to expound his personal views in public, all he needs to do is notify his nearest editor and the land will soon be flooded with pungent paragraphs over the cramped, irregular, sharp-slanting Hearst signature...
...head of Royal Dutch Petroleum Co. and Shell Transport & Trading Co., Ltd., sat at a large mahogany table and ate an Edam cheese sandwich. Around the same table some 20 potent oilmen sat, discussed petroleum and how not to produce too much of it. To Sir Henri, munching his pungent delicacy, might have come memories of the days in which he and John Davison Rockefeller would have constituted an extremely effective quorum on world oil-questions. What battles he had had with the old Standard Oil! How well he remembered the time when, after Stand ard had given away kerosene...
...March issue) allowed to lampoon the staff of that earnest, proletarian monthly as a ridiculous, sour and impoverished quartet, weary of life and thought. O. Soglow is a signature frequently seen also in the blithely capitalistic New Yorker. There he is the Harpo Marx of art, maintaining a pungent silence with untitled comic strip exercises in pantomime, often verging on the vulgar. Recently the New Yorker has been repeating, each week, the same Soglow drawing of an open manhole, from which issue voices providing different captions...
...vogue of saying sensational things about colleges and college men has spread so widely of late that pungent opinions on the subject have ceased to be a cause of any deep concern. But though extreme remarks usually carry with them the warrant of their own weakness, some of them strike near enough the truth to be suggestive as caricatures. Into this class falls a remark recently published in a New York paper to the effect that colleges are not attended for the purpose of obtaining an education, but because it is the thing...
There was an evening in Paris in the '70s when the Prince of Wales, later Edward VII, went backstage at the Varietes. He was led through a gloomy cavern of stained canvas, ropes, flaring lamps. The air was pungent, draughty, filled with the cloying scent of women doused with violent perfumes. The blond prince entered the dressing room of the leading lady, a famed courtesan. She greeted him with coy, voluptuous respect, in tantalizing deshabille. The little dressing room was filled with starchy gentlemen, shouting amid the gay popping of corks. To one side stood a myopic, corpulent, bearded figure...