Word: snarls
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...Noel Willman) can only snarl the lame retort: "You choose to jest." Then he sounds the charge. Maces mash and broadswords boing. In the end French heads are rolling about the landscape like mothballs at a spring cleaning, while Errol proves, as always, a beryl in peril. He loses nothing but his mustache-but then, what is Errol Flynn without his mustache? As he comes up for the final clinch with the heroine (Joanne Dru), he looks as sapless as Samson on the morning after his lawn was mowed. Or maybe it is only that Errol, at 46, is getting...
...heel is a heel is a heel, but he will get a behind-the-camera TV education. He will learn how to tell an executive's importance from the kind of humor with which the doorman greets him and how a recorded quote can be transformed from hostile snarl into eulogy by cutting and splicing tape...
...rhinoceros escaped briefly from a circus in Rio one evening last week, jamming traffic on busy Avenida Atlantica. Amid the tangle of stalled automobiles, the word darted around as erratically as a horsefly in a stable: "O Golpe! The coup!" In jittery Rio, something as commonplace as a traffic snarl could touch off rumors that the army was taking over, and the exclamation Golpe! really meant "This...
...helps TIME search out the thread of reality from the snarl of events in the Near East, an area of special interest to me since my wartime years there with the Office of War Information. Monica's beat is Israel alone. The nearby countries, including the Arab states, are covered by our Beirut Bureau, headed by Keith "Israel," Monica writes, "is a small country where 5,000 people buy TIME and a far greater number read it. This means that almost everyone I meet, from taxi driver to government official, knows exactly what has appeared in the magazine...
...this ancient pomp, there was one concession to scruffy present reality. Because of the rail strike, the Queen gave up her traditional golden coach, instead drove to Westminster in a closed car to avoid drawing sightseeing crowds to add to London's traffic snarl. But inside the House of Lords, ancient ceremony took over. Resplendent in white net and diamanté, the imperial crown gleaming on her head and heavy purple robes sweeping back from her shoulders, the young Queen read the Speech from the Throne, written for her by "my government," to an assemblage glittering with peers...