Word: silver
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...recalls everything and glamourizes nothing: "They keep talking now about deterioration and how the films are lost. They always forget that the big way they were lost was because the studios themselves had them burned up and melted down to sell for silver content. They used to make $2 [million] or $3 million a year that...
...colonial decay, ceiling fans turn lazily above a lost-and-found case still stuffed with pince-nez, ladies' compacts and rusting cuff links misplaced during an age of vanished elegance. Around the lobby, black-tied men in curry-stained white coats serve up tea and porridge on tarnished silver trays. "Here, you must always remember," says an official, in the lovely English she learned under British rule, "that you are living in the 18th century...
...years Paul Laxalt has played the supporting role of best friend to Ronald Reagan's star turn as leading man. His performance has been a polished one: the crisp, affable, silver-haired Nevada Senator has headed Reagan's presidential campaigns and become an essential backstage adviser to the man he used to go camping with when both were Western Governors. But now the script has the leading man retiring. As Laxalt, 63, surveys the potential replacements, he has begun publicly pondering that most common question of both politicians and second leads...
...evening, the reporters were unexpectedly herded onto buses and driven to the site of the colonel's bombed-out home. There, bathed in moonlight and flanked by two recently wounded sons, sat Gaddafi's wife Safia. Clutching a crutch as her silver-trimmed black robe billowed in the stiff breeze, the usually private woman vowed to kill with her own hands the pilot who had shattered her house and to pursue eternal vengeance on all Americans "unless they give Reagan the death sentence." For all its staginess, the eerie scene was another reminder that despite last week's precautions...
...Perhaps no painting has ever conveyed a hunter's anxiety better than Hound and Hunter, with its flustered boy in the dinghy trying to get a rope on a shot stag's antlers before its corpse sinks, lurching to and fro in a cave of forest darkness and disturbed silver ripples...