Word: smile
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...great walnut doors of the U.S. House of Representatives swung wide, and Doorkeeper William ("Fishbait") Miller announced in his drawlingest Mississippi delivery the arrival of a distinguished member. Through the door came a tall, gaunt man with a shock of white hair, rimless glasses and a thin-lipped smile. The House rose in welcome, and Massachusetts' Representative John William McCormack made his way slowly down the center aisle. His peers had just elected him the 45th Speaker of the House...
When McCormack mounted the rostrum to voice his thanks and to take the oath of office (administered by Georgia's Carl Vinson, the dean of the House), his smile flickered. It was a supreme moment for John McCormack-one he had dreamed of for half his life. Yet McCormack could sense a melancholy and a reserve in the House mood...
...brilliant young lawyer intent on lifting some of the guilt from German shoulders. Citing a precedent from U.S. law back at the U.S. judges, he snaps a book shut and announces in truncated accents that the opinion he had read was from "Oliver Wendell Holmes." His quick-flashing smile is no smile at all, disappearing as swiftly as the sound of clicked heels. A young, black-haired, deep-eyed man with a jut jaw and a strong, handsome face, he looks improbable in rimless glasses and courtroom robes. But he thoroughly commands the attention of both tribunal and audience...
Married. Francoise Sagan, 26, prolific enfant terrible of French literature (Bonjour Tristesse, A Certain Smile, Aimez-vous Brahms); and Robert Westhoff, 31, lanky expatriate sculptor from Minneapolis who shares Sagan's addiction to fast sports cars (she spent five months recuperating after a 1957 crack-up); she for the second time, he for the first; in Barneville, Normandy...
...crystalline structures of malice as Memento Mori and The Ballad oj Peckham Rye partly for the economy with which they are built. Avoiding bravura writing as she would a vulgar display of pound notes, this Scotswoman sits composedly among her characters, goading them by silence and an infrequent equivocal smile to disclose their sins. Rarely does the exposure require more than 200 pages, and at the end of a Muriel Spark novel, most readers find themselves wondering why other writers must babble on and on to twice that length...