Word: quiets
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Beyond him lie the treacherous traffic rapids of Kosciusko Square, beyond the uncharted, teeming hinterlands of Langdell, Walter Hastings, and the Music Building--a truly blood-chilling panorama. Behind him lie the gray Azores of Phillips Brooks House and the quiet harbors of the Yard. But, Columbus-like, the Vagabond pushes on into the unfamiliar waters ahead. Tacking unskillfully along the North Cambridge car line, Vag's frail cockleshell almost at once encounters a large white island; whose towering stone cliffs rise perpendicular from the water's edge. San Domingo, perhaps? No, young Columbus...
...interior was laden with clothes and china and silverware and odd knick-knacks. Some of the articles weren't much good, but then they weren't priced very highly either. The place had a simple and direct dignity--not bustling and impersonal like the Coop, but intimate and quiet, with just a tinge of secrecy--not big like Widener, but more like a House library on say, a Tuesday afternoon. The varied articles of clothing on the hangers had not the resplendency of new garments, but they did have the proper aristocratic drape and much good, solid wear in them...
...problem of using light for spectra more efficiently has goaded skygazers for years. Astronomers at Mt. Wilson and California Institute of Technology were putting their money last week on a device called an "image-slicer," invented by Caltech's quiet, brilliant Ira Sprague Bowen. No bigger than a child's fist, this gadget splits up the blobby image of a star or nebula into a number of thin strips by means of a combination of mirrors which feed each one of the strips through the one-thousandth-inch spectroscope slit. After passing through, these slices of light...
...have pressed the U. S. on these 30 wax surfaces are a perfect team: van Ackere, short, excitable and voluble; Friedland as tall, quiet and phlegmatic as a Frenchman can be. Friedland is a producer and businessman who speaks no English whatsoever; van Ackere is a showman and artist who speaks English with no accent whatsoever. Together they work fast and smoothly. M. Friedland's most cherished souvenir of U. S. culture, which he says he will show to every one in France, is a folder of matches from a New York hotel. The matches are fully-dressed cardboard...
That Elizabeth Madox Roberts was lost in one of these treacherous literary culs-de-sac became painfully clear to most critics three years ago, when she published her obscure, mystical novel, He Sent Forth a Raven. A difficult, humorless book, it had nothing of the earthiness and quiet backwoods simplicity that made her first novel, The Time of Man, a best-seller and a critic's favorite. Instead of plain Kentucky hill folks, its characters were strange, unreal philosophers who explained at great length, in highly polished sentences, that they did not know what it was all about...