Word: shall
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1980-1989
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...party voters, frightened by visions of Reagan, the ideologue, and viewing a vote for Independent Candidate John Anderson as a ballot thrown away, will return, however grudgingly, to the fold. One politician unimpressed by the likelihood of any such Democratic unity is Ronald Reagan. Said he last weekend: "I shall forever remember the final scene that night when the Senator from Massachusetts joined the President on the platform. If that's the best they can do in unity, they have a long...
...more personal, recalling his campaign and "my golden friends across this land." He concluded: "For me, a few hours ago, this campaign came to an end. For all those whose cares have been our concern, the work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives, and the dream shall never...
...Some of the volumes he likes best are no longer in print, a sad situation that his own book may help remedy. A single passage by Evelyn Waugh in Labels is more than enough to justify all that roaming around that so many did: "I do not think I shall ever forget the sight of Etna at sunset; the mountain almost invisible in a blur of pastel grey, glowing on the top and then repeating its shape, as though reflected, in a wisp of grey smoke with the whole horizon behind radiant with pink light, fading gently into a grey...
...long, O how long, America!" cried Clement, in a grandiloquent filch from Cicero's First Catiline Oration. "How long, O America, shall these things endure?" In Dwight Eisenhower's foreign policy, Clement declaimed, "Foster [Dulles] fiddles, frets, fritters and flits." Richard Nixon was "the vice-hatchet man slinging slander and spreading half-truths while the top man peers down the green fairways of indifference." To farmers, the gusty Tennessean pleaded: "Come on home . . . Your lands are studded with the white skulls and crossbones of broken Republican promises...
...opera and hog calling." Over the years, he developed a style of infinitely subtle fustian, whose effect can still be remotely approximated by sipping twelve-year-old bourbon, straight, while reading Dickens aloud, in a sort of sepulchral purr. Would he criticize an erring colleague? someone would ask. "I shall invoke upon him every condign imprecation," Dirksen would intone, with a quiver of his basset's jowls and the gold-gray ringlets of his hair...