Word: roar
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...portrait of himself painted by Graham Sutherland (see ART). He was loftily deprecatory of his wartime role. "It was the nation and the race dwelling all round the globe that had the lion's heart. I had the luck to be called upon to give the roar." He concluded gravely: "I am now nearing the end of my journey. I hope I still have some services to render." When he sat down, his wife leaned across to pat his hand affectionately. Then she took his arm, and together they passed through the applauding crowd, stopping once as Churchill...
...quadrillion tons. Anyone lost at sea? Butterflies offer directions-in-reverse to the nearest coast because their flights over water are generally suicidal-away from land. Trying to make conversation in Tibet? Better stop talking by midmorning. because after that the wind sets up a "howling, skin-blasting roar." Along with such recherche lore. Author Murchie offers straightforward tips on air navigation to those who may feel the need of them. At his infrequent but embarrassing worst, he plays the Whitman-cum-Thomas Wolfe of the skyways: "I winnow the meager facts, seeking to construct truth only from the clean...
...this point, like a wounded lion unable to kill, but still able to roar menacingly, the Bevanites answered back with a touch of the old defiance: "Trade union leaders are not a special breed of humanity, always to be shielded from the rough breezes of democracy. They . . . must run the risks of public life if they aspire to hold the prizes and the power. We shall continue to print the truth...
...first, the record seemed to give off only a series of rumbles and gurgles. But soon the irregular surges and lulls began to sound like the surf, playing on pebbles, crashing on rocks, growing louder and louder until a big one landed with a thunderous roar, and the listener could almost see the flying spume and the screeching seagulls. Then, evoking a passage into a quiet bay, little waves lapped with a feathery sound on a soft beach, and a bell buoy clanked mournfully. On the other side of the record was a kind of aural shipboard narrative, beginning with...
Intermission, and he returned in a brocade smoking jacket for a little Boogie Woogie. "Let's have a little fun," he cried. "When I pause I want all the girls and women in the audience to yell 'hey!'" An aswering screech. "O.K. fellas, its your turn." A lower-pitched roar. "I told you so, George, I knew men came to my concerts...