Word: sightedly
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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Fortunately for our constancy--and unfortunately for our hearts--love is no longer an easily-attained feeling. We don't love from first sight, or even from first date. There certainly can't be degrees of love, a growing and expanding love for someone over time. No, we now know--just know--that love is something so strong, so ultimate, and so final that to accept a relationship as love is foolhardy. So love has become something distant, something we may have "someday, with someone." But for the here and now, we banish love from our lives...
...envy of the world for its profitability and ruthless efficiency, could fall off that pedestal if it takes on too many social issues. "Business exists to make a profit," says John Hood, president of the John Locke Foundation, a North Carolina-based public-policy think tank. "When you lose sight of that, you lose the unique benefits that come from being highly focused in a competitive market...
...pulse check. Nothing. And then she looked at her hands: they were covered in blood. A few yards away was shattered glass, but the car did not appear to have hit anything. Taking a flashlight, she focused a beam on the corpses and was almost overcome at the sight of the head wounds. She turned to the police and told them the two men had been shot. Clayton put her hands in her pockets. "I was a nervous wreck," she says. "I felt like I was being watched. The fog was rolling in. It was eerie. Like an Alfred Hitchcock...
Within seconds, the men pulled the attack dog back, and the little dog, barking, darted out of sight, with its owner following and calling after it, "No! Stop! Wait!" Meanwhile, as the crowd began to disperse and the student helpers went on to Mather, the owner of the vicious creature was on his knees pointing a finger at his dog's head and saying repeatedly "Bad! Bad dog! Bad!" The dog merely barked in the direction of his victim, now long gone, as his owner gave up and pulled him down Cowperthwaite Street. Geoffrey C. Upton...
...simply, most of the game consisted of some Harvard player (usually Ford) treading water in front of the Colgate goal with the ball and not a defender in sight...