Word: shadowing
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1920-1929
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...from Harvard. A tall, bony Yank, he went to the Spanish War, returned to practice law, worked to the top of his Legislature, reached Congress in 1909. His face is lined like bark, but he does not bite. Conservative, shrewd, popular with serious men, he has cast a long shadow at national conventions...
...were loud with bees; joyous honeyed mead was brewed in the glades. With the arching zest of dolphins the Slavs plunged in the waters of the Vistula, Pripet, Upper Dniester rivers. At nightfall they huddled in their river bank encampments, shuddered at the moan of the werewolf, the fleet shadow of Baba-Jaga, man-eating witch. Meanwhile their more venturesome brethren, scowling pirates of the Aegean and Baltic, forgot their ferocity beneath a vibrant pattern of stars...
...great Forum that is the Yale Bowl tomorrow. What place the market fairs of Lyons yesterday filled or the medieval fields of the cloth of gold, the growth of the football stadia more adequately supplies for a nation of stockholders. Furs, fine fabrics, fair women, the light and shadow of autumn, the iridescent color minglings of eighty seated thousands form the tableau at New Haven. It appears new and of certain splendor. Yet the first roar that greets the raising of the grate for the two opposing teams dispels the note novelty. Echoed into mind are the arenas of Tiberius...
...Shadows of Fear is a testimonial to a short, awkward, massive, bearded, sharp-nosed shadow, that of Émile Zola from whose novel, Thérèse Raquin, the story is accurately taken. How a girl connives with her lover to push her invalid husband into the Seine and how her subsequent life advances with recriminations, nightmares, protests, to a suicide in the dead man's room in the firelight is told on the screen with the beautiful realism that was the movement of Zola's mind. Splendidly acted by a Franco-German company hitherto unknown...
There Menelaus woke, distracted still. Helen was pure, but just a shadow Helen. The real one he had killed, just as he killed Paris, just as he would kill anyone who dared rest his eyes on her. Death, Helen decided, was better than a half-mad Menelaus who thought her just a shadow creature, and perhaps death would not come so long as she could smile. Packed away there was another potion that might restore him. Aithra warned her but she took no notice, clapped for wine and balsam and herself brewed the cup of quietude that proved...