Word: slipping
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Ultimately the judges wee forced to choose one afternoon and one evening dress. "The neatest neck-line in years" won the former contest, while a costume entitled "Just right for a woodland nymph" copped the latter. The pajamas "to slip into after a swim," lost out primarily because nobody could figure out when they should be worn--although Vaughn had a knowing look...
Trooping up the Newell Boathouse slip on a dark gray day, after an hour of poor rowing, the 150-pound oarsman lowers at his reflection in the sleek wet shell and nurses the black conviction that today he pulled the boat all by himself. It is at this touchy moment that coach Bert Haines, a slim, middling-aged man with a wind-reddened face underlined by a thick white towel around his neck, steps from a launch, calls the day's offender aside, and with gestures explains in a gentle, English-tinged voice, "Now, this is the surface...
...intolerant to "stop Wallace," are of at least equal significance to the interest of freedom of expression in the United States. Censorship of literary or artistic works, usually carried on by non-official groups, can all too easily pass from the field of the outright indecent and slip into material that is socially or politically repellent. In any case the censorship should not be effectuated by "elderly men morbidly interested in reading obscene books so that they can keep them away from others" or by groups who are directly concerned with the material under scrutiny...
...morning, the people left in Texas City tried to count their dead. There were 200 bodies in the gym. They lay in blanketed rows, each body tagged with a yellow identification slip.* The smell of smoke and blood hung thick over relatives bending to look at the tags. Occasionally someone whimpered, or fainted, or turned woodenly and walked out. One young woman begged to be admitted out of turn to find her young husband. "We only been married a month," she explained. Another in slacks stepped challengingly up to a guard. "He ain't here," she snapped. Still another...
Lucie's husband ("descended from the corsair just as you descend a long staircase when you slip-on his backside") died years ago. And Luc La Hourie, her only son, was reported lost at sea with a Breton fishing trawler just three months after he married Françoise...