Word: scarfs
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...cafe where they can calm down with a cup of coffee. The fraternal transport is not at is beatific height. Arm in arm they reel indifferent to traffic or the piercing cold: one lifts his hands to the frigid heavens and races down the street backward, his scarf and topcoat wildly flapping in the wind, crying out in ecstasy. "Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord!" The unbroken tension of weeks--of a year and a half for some, has ended. Bicker is over at last, for them...
...prints by Josef Albers: $3,500 for a red leather-bound three-volume "limited edition" in a cloth-covered redwood case. A scaled-down one-volume slipcased trade version costs a mere $65. (Oxford's cheapest King James is $12.50.) At the opposite end of the cultural scale. Scarf Press and David C. Cook have issued Bibles in comic-strip form. There are also vulgar paraphrases of the New Testament aimed at young "Jesus people," as well as curious "chronological Bibles," which purport to rearrange events in exact "historical" order. Reader 's Digest is at work...
...Great Britain combined. Because roughly three times more men died in the conflict than women, there currently exists nearly an entire generation of elderly women who never married and whose presence is felt throughout Soviet society. The ever-present babushka is always telling complete strangers to wear a scarf or hat, to stand up straighter, or not to shuffle your feet when you walk...
...town to recite at John Kennedy's Inauguration: "Such as we were we gave ourselves outright/ . . . To the land vaguely realizing westward,/ But still unstoried, artless, un-enhanced." Kennedy answered: "The torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans." Ike huddled in his coat, white scarf up around his neck on that day. When the Inaugural was over, the defeated Richard Nixon slipped down the Senate steps of the Capitol front and disappeared into the dark back seat of a limousine, little realizing that he would return in eight years as President. And as Reagan prepared...
There, upon the ground, lay the whitened image of a youth. His white eyes were starting from their crumbly sockets; his white mouth was gaping and within it, his teeth (still unconsumed), gleamed like beads. But worst of all, round his white neck was the knot of the white scarf (once black) with which he had been strangled! The burning quicklime, like the burning mind above it, had thrust up the knowledge of the crime...