Word: sound
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...missile cruiser Canberra cut through an uneasy sea in rain and fog that blotted out the destroyers Barton and Wood port and starboard. Finally, on the second day, after knifing through the Gulf Stream, Canberra moved into the Bahama Islands' 100-mile-long Exuma Sound to be welcomed by warm sun and blue sky. Behind, through the veil of rain, lay the ship's Norfolk pier and beyond that Ike's own pier, the White House. On the horizon: the ragged smudge of Cat Island. To the northeast lay Bermuda and a highest-level conference...
ROBERT MITCHUM, who croaks a hoked-up calypso for Capitol (Mama Look-a Booboo) and manages to sound as if he had half-swallowed a maraca...
...there is some chance the program will be done away with entirely. Certainly the abuse of the Reading Period system in the past, and both students and faculty members are guilty, would justify abandoning it altogether, but we hope this does not happen. The idea of Reading Period is sound; its faulty execution is what ruins it. If professors would point their curriculum so as to culminate in two or three weeks of either intensive, high-level study of extant course material or individual study of new material related to the course, Reading Period might in fact do its hypothetical...
...basic assumption that "Being is in the present" is admitted, much of Krishnamurti's advice becomes valid. But is that assumption sound? For the seeker of the self especially, Being may be realized only in terms of Becoming, not in the present. The present, I think, is merely the synopsis of the past and future, the elusive transition from the "has been" to the "not yet." The essence of the self is its very ability to project itself, to plan, to become. Being always includes Becoming, and the search for reality must embrace the future and find its way through...
Novelist Vladimir (Bend Sinister) Nabokov, 57, himself an émigré Russian and a Cornell professor of Russian literature, does more than sound-track his hero for laughs; in unobtrusive flashbacks he captures the underlying pathos of exile. Leafing through an émigré journal, Pnin sees his dead father and mother in the lamplit serenity of their pre-Revolutionary home; stonily viewing a Soviet documentary film, he bursts into tears at a sudden glimpse of the Russian countryside in springtime...