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Word: sleep (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1960-1969
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Usage:

...impossible, if performed a second time, seems mere repetition. Thus millions of Americans were content to sleep through the Apollo 12's landing on the moon. They missed a diverting incident. The Apollo 12, with a price tag of roughly $375 million, represents a refinement of hundreds of years of scientific experiment and theory, the most intricate hardware of a technological civilization. Yet when the television camera fritzed out on the lunar surface, Astronaut Alan Bean had a moment of atavism. Like any other 20th century man confronted by the perversity of nonfunctioning machines, he whacked it with...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: American Notes: Lunar Atavism | 11/28/1969 | See Source »

...exile from Salvador Dali and Franco Spain, Buñuel resumed his career in Mexico, where he made his landmark in the Cinema of Cruelty, Los Olvidados, a fierce, searing lament for the Mexican poor. The cinema, he claimed, was "most reminiscent of the work of the mind during sleep"-and he kept on dreaming onscreen. Soon foreign film makers-and avant-garde American ones-began to imitate his trancelike style...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: New Movies: The Love-Hate of Luis Bunuel | 11/28/1969 | See Source »

...Everyone wants to sleep with everyone else./ They're lined up for blocks./ I have an idea: / I'll go to bed with you./ They won't miss...

Author: By Jeffrey S. Golden, | Title: Richard Brautigan On Saturday Night | 11/26/1969 | See Source »

...interim, we had been picked up by a VW jammed full of people, just missed participating in one near car crash, hunted out an all-night theatre only to find it mysteriously closed, and prowled around the grounds of the National Cathedral in search of someplace to sleep...

Author: By Gregg J. Kilday, | Title: Memoirs of a Would-be Street lighter | 11/21/1969 | See Source »

...also been lucky. Unlike most of the others, I had had my tacky bit of existential drama. It had taken place right out there on Canal Road. And now, here it was five in the morning, and I was forcing my recalcitrant body to sleep in the crowded quarters of the car's front seat. The guy with the bullhorn and Frank's white Rambler-they must serve as my moral equivalent of war. Second-rate substitutes of course, but then, you'll have to admit, these are second-rate times we are living...

Author: By Gregg J. Kilday, | Title: Memoirs of a Would-be Street lighter | 11/21/1969 | See Source »

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