Word: rues
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Shall I die? Shall I fly Lovers' baits and deceits, sorrow breeding? Shall I fend? Shall I send? Shall I shew, and not rue my proceeding? In all duty her beauty Binds me her servant for ever. If she scorn, I mourn, I retire to despair, joying never...
Except for those few appearances before last November’s Bush victory (in which it proved itself blessedly prescient)—and except for a couple unexpected detours along la rue Larry Summers—its subject has been the future of the defeated, demoralized Democrats...
...impoverished ghettos in Angers, the city's socialist officials have for years settled low-income families like that of Franck V.'s among far wealthier residents, and heavily subsidized their rent. Franck and Patricia conducted their trade from their three-bedroom apartment in a four-story building on Rue Maurice Pouzet. Customers came and went, but the neighbors never pried. Now, there is a sense of shame among residents at having failed to notice the nightmare in their midst. When Time visited the building recently, neighbors brushed aside questions, some closing their doors without a word. On the door...
...back at Paramount, for three B pictures. But she was the star! And now, no more dragon ladies. Also no more meaty roles. Sinophiles may rue the villainy imputed to them in movies, but they should realize that villains are often the best parts. The snake gets all the lines...
...there is some small virtue in knowing that we have hearts to sell for endless rue. It is a painful lesson, but perhaps one we needed to learn, that we are not so jaded as we would fancy ourselves. We may be advocates of ironic detachment, but we are not entirely detached. In the hopeful, terrifying months leading up to this election, we canvassed, we telephoned voters in swing states, we taped signs up in our bedroom windows. We watched the debates. We wore pins. We argued about political issues with unselfconscious earnestness. But our greatest leap of faith...