Word: smells
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...keeps no motor, rides the street cars. He takes no physical exercise, does not "give a damn" for society, dancing, cards. Chief conversational topics: the glories of the Old South, keeping down the "nigger." He calls spades spades and has referred, on the Senate floor, to water closets, the smell of Negroes, giving Negroes hot baths, etc., etc. He has called President Hoover a "Mussolini" and the Civil Service "the most damnable, iniquitous system ever perpetrated." Last fortnight he plumped out brazenly for the "spoils system" of party patronage (TIME, June His votes are highly independent; he never attends...
Opposed to these loud Occidentals who fill the theatre with the smell of gunpowder are a batch of Orientals who rattle slates, employ green strangling cords, talk occasionally like old Southern gentlemen. Douglass R. Dumbrille, late of The Three Musketeers, is an inimitable O'Neill...
...with the young artist who has dragged her out of that old life. Lolo's fiance appeals to her as Hans Grill ennobled. She does not believe with Hans that "no life, even the most ideal, is possible in which for some hours every day there is not a smell of potato-soup." A servant-girl's Utopia, that! Thus the love of wife and husband becomes a subtle struggle, noble v. peasant. When Hans drowns, she takes up with a dwarf of a man whose only attractions are his title, his philosophy, his offer to take her to some...
...scholarly gifts, such as has been found in the brains of some 40 other eminent persons. The length and depth of the furrows in the brain were marked. Especially was this true of the speech, visual and hearing areas. One peculiarity was the atrophy of the olfactory (sense of smell) region?a condition, apparently, of long standing...
...apartment over an apothecary's shop in the Faubourg St. Germain, a noisy female parasite gives a dinner to consolidate her waning position. To jaded guests she offers, as entertainment and prey, a virginal American heiress, Anne. A curious decadent odor hangs over the affair, waves of sickening smell choke the perverted conversation. Anne, suffocating, escapes from the room. Downstairs she clatters into something that jangles dismally. It is a metal funeral wreath of painted violets and roses. A door opens and in the dim light Anne sees three women clucking over the apothecary's bloated corpse. Overwhelmed...