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Word: sidewalkers (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...well be urban man's worst friend. The beast in the city jungle chews children, attacks joggers and howls into the night in a cramped apartment that makes it neurotic. When it does get out-twice a day, if its master can manage-it turns street and sidewalk alike into messy booby traps for pedestrians. The brassy blonde in the film Midnight Cowboy said it all when she coaxed her toy poodle: "Do it for mama...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Environment: Do Cities Really Need Dogs? | 7/20/1970 | See Source »

...last time I saw Roger, after Bob had kicked him out, he was sitting on the sidewalk. He had gotten a new pair of glasses, but they were resting in his pocket. He rolled his eyes and said "hey" but he could not recognize me and I left quickly...

Author: By David R. Ignatius, | Title: Freaks Living in Our Streets: Let a Hundred Flowers Bloom | 7/2/1970 | See Source »

...York I walked into that morning, down 42nd Street from 9th Avenue, choked me with the smell of garbage and smoke. There was dog shit, even a little horse shit, all over the sidewalk, and there were kids- at six in the morning- there were kids huddling in doorways, watching me as I passed...

Author: By Richard E. Hyland, | Title: No Country for Old Men | 6/29/1970 | See Source »

...turned up the collar on my sports jacket and dug my hands into my pockets as far as they would go to look as tough as I could possibly look, and marched, head down, three blocks, almost to Times Square. I was watching the cracks in the sidewalk and swinging quick glances from side to side to make sure that I wasn't about to be knocked off, when suddenly I stopped and shook my head to clear it. Two feet away I saw a grown man, maybe as old as my father and the other members of the Lion...

Author: By Richard E. Hyland, | Title: No Country for Old Men | 6/29/1970 | See Source »

...glue factory") and showed me the multi-colored ??? and the eighty-dollar boots. I began to realize why, in Cub?, they hand you clothes as you need them, cut pretty much like everyone else's. No one in any sane country would spill quarts of sweat on the sidewalk to load delivery trucks with the stuff they sell in Saks...

Author: By Richard E. Hyland, | Title: No Country for Old Men | 6/29/1970 | See Source »

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