Word: reveler
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...long as victory smiled on Hitler's "intuitions," the mastiff barely lifted a paw against him. When a bomb was finally exploded in the Führer's presence in July 1944, he was stunned and his famed forelock was set alight, but he lived to revel in the torture deaths of many of the men who made the plot. So dear to Hitler's baleful eye was the sight of a German general slowly strangling on a slim cord at the end of a meathook that he had a film of the hangings...
...Dazzled Heart. Misia's new husband owned an immense castle with towers and battlements, but castles were not to Misia's taste. "Why should I limit myself to two or three hundred acres, when I can revel in the whole world?" she demanded. Edwards promptly sold his castle and built Misia a 100-ft. yacht. Caruso acclaimed the yacht's acoustics perfect, and tirelessly sang Neapolitan songs whenever he was a guest. "Enough!" Misia finally cried. "I can't bear that any more!" Eyes popping, Caruso exploded in dismay: "I, Caruso, the great, the incomparable Caruso...
...Kennedy began making sure that Scandinavian 50 would have a roof over its head. On September 30th, when the last study card has been filed and the last irate professor has been moved to a big enough lecture room so that all his unexpectedly large group of admirerers can revel in his Ciceronian delivery, the job of assigning classrooms will be done--until the spring term...
Like a proud papa recounting the feats of his offspring, the Communist organ L'Humanité* ticked off the high spots of 20 days of anti-American activity in France. Item: at Revel, in Haute-Garonne, "300 peasants tore up surveyors' markers at a new military airbase." Item: at Saint-Quentin, "youth made a fire of joy out of the tracts and brochures of the [American] occupation." Item: at Toulouse, "street parades against the arrival of munitions . . . from across the Atlantic...
...daughter whose seduction led to the slaying, has just died. She is indignant and aghast at having been consigned to the underworld; even the discovery that her father is moving there by choice does not appease her-better, as she sees it, to yawn in Heaven than revel in Hell. This, she is told, is not the fashionable view: Heaven is so dull that almost no one but the English can endure it. Hell, run by an urbane Devil who is as eager to please as a resort-hotel proprietor, is itself a kind of resort, full of animal enjoyments...