Word: smiles
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...blasted him as a disciple of George Orwell, "that classical master of anti-Communist pamphleteering." Marek Hlasko wrote an answering letter that Trybuna Ludu refused to publish. "It was not I who made Warsaw," said Hlasko bitterly, "that Warsaw that was for so many years a city without a smile; it was not I who made the Warsaw in which people trembled with fear; it was not I who made the Warsaw in which the greatest treasure of the poor was a bottle of vodka; it was not I who made the Warsaw in which a girl was cheaper than...
Sorokin steps over to the huge bookcase in his wood-panelled study and points proudly to a recent translation of his work in Chinese. "You can even read my yarns in Hindustani now," the genial professor smiles. In fact, volumes of his "yarns," the name which Sorokin fondly attaches to his theories, together with translations and commentaries upon them, occupy almost all of the space on the shelves. Sorokin picks up a new work by Ortega y Gasset, which he has been asked to review, and he suggests that perhaps the Spanish social thinker may have "borrowed" some...
...been extracted from him by the police "while I was under the influence of alcohol." But then he blandly admitted forging dozens of documents, ranging from "proof" that he had been in Nazi concentration camps to "proof" that he had served in the Nazi army. With an embarrassed smile, he agreed that he had used his own falsified army identification card in lectures showing troops how to avoid just such forgeries. Roared the judge: "Did you not become tired of making these forgeries?" Replied Schneider: "Not really, once I had done the first one, I felt it made no difference...
mind without soul may blast some universe to might have been,and stop ten thousand stars but not one heartbeat of this child ;nor shall even prevail a million questionings against the silence of his mother's smile...
...breakfast order of poached eggs, toast and coffee was routine. But the customer obviously was not. While his eggs poached, he table-hopped to shake hands. He ducked behind the counter to greet the cook, the counterman, the waitresses and the busboy. For each, he flashed a broad smile, his forehead crinkled into wrinkles. "Hello, I'm Nelson Rockefeller," he said. "I'm running for Governor. It's a real pleasure to say hello to you." When the eggs were served, the candidate invited himself up to a table of sleepy breakfasting Batavians, popped a saccharin tablet...