Word: snarls
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...traffic snarl that such a building would obviously generate is sufficient reason for its construction elsewhere. If Mr. Sullivan is really interested in helping Cambridge, and, more particularly the Square, to solve traffic problems, to attract more business, and to develop parking facilities, he might consider erection of his building on stilts in one of the nearby undeveloped areas of the city. Of course, public land costs somewhat less than private holdings. But the difference in price is not so great as to warrant abandonment of the project. It is a wonderful idea...
Having made 23 Hollywood pictures, most of them commercial successes, Wilder has been nominated 18 times for Academy Awards and won three, for Lost Weekend (director and coauthor) and Sunset Boulevard (co-author). Says he with a snarl: "I was robbed 15 times." But he adds: "I am batting twice as good as Ted Williams ever...
...with a wheelbase of some 40 in., a bucket seat that rests a scant two inches above the ground. Knees stuffed under his chin, the driver cramps behind the wheel like a frog in a walnut. Then the two dinky, 6-h.p. engines perched behind the seat begin to snarl, and the bedspring contraption becomes a hot, highly engineered racing machine that can hit 85 m.p.h. on the straightaway, drift through corners like a Maserati. Says one driver: "The feeling of speed is fantastic! Even at 30 m.p.h. you feel like you're leading the pack at Le Mans...
...into the café proclaiming that Sumpf "should have been gassed 20 years ago," spent a drunken half-hour smashing beer glasses against the wall. They returned two weeks later and began to smash up the café furniture. Sumpf called the cops, only to have a police sergeant snarl at him: "Why don't you close your dive...
...came Karandash, Russia's greatest clown, lost in a flapping green suit, grotesque beneath a scarlet wig, riding a donkey fitted with handle bars. He tumbled off, pulled out a hammer and a plate and began a flurry of legerdemain that ended in a sidesplitting snarl of chaos and shattered crockery. In blue tights flashing with gold, the three blonde Balakin sisters spun aluminum hoops in a shimmering blur. To the frantic rhythms of Khachaturian's Saber Dance, the three Gratchevs flung whole tribes of Indian clubs at one another while wobbling on a rope strung between...