Word: spoon
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Cambridge was born with a silver spoon in its mouth--before the first foundation was dug, its planners had agreed it would serve well as the capital of this infant colony. Deputy Gov. Thomas Dudley and Gov. John Winthrop led the first expedition, described by historian Thomas Wentworth Higginson at the 250th anniversary as a "semi-military picnic." They picked this bend in the Charles for the governmental seat because it seemed far enough inland to be safe from naval attack, but could be easily defended against overland aggression. And they agreed, along with about ten other officers...
...grow up in a small town is to have not a number but a name and rank that are known to everybody, and a history too. It is to understand not how Edgar Lee Masters wrote Spoon River Anthology, but how he got his material, how he came to know the secret lives of so many so well. A small town rearing consists, by and large, of getting to know and to be known by everybody, and to feel that intimate communal familiarity as both affectionate support and unrelenting intrusion; the flight from intimacy to the city's anonymity...
Becky sat in the corner chewing her nails. If Tom takes the car, why don't you ride to the dentist tomorrow? asked Myrtle. It's fifteen miles, said Becky. Don't bend the spoons! Myrtle told her harshly. Eagle Star can take you thirty miles, easy, she said. Becky straightened the spoon. How far to Vegas, asked Rick. A ways, said Myrtle. Becky laughed...
Sunshine might just as well try tunneling out of Sing Sing with a soup spoon. Every avenue of Waters' psyche ends up against a wall, a towering edifice whose bricks have been mixed from the clay of emotional trauma, vocational frustration and, apparently, brain damage. Absent fathers, smothering mothers, sadistic schoolmasters, insistent fans and faithless spouses: "All in all you were all just bricks in the wall...
...TIME poor Mr. Spoon leaves his doctor's office to "enjoy" his last 27 seconds, he has passed through each stage with marvelous histrionics. In the process of denying the inevitable, he wonders why his doctor cannot freeze him until they discover his cure. "Freeze me!" he shouts, running to the refrigerator for an ice tray, then lying on the floor and dumping the cubes on himself. "Put me under a microscope!" he begs, then resignedly laments, "I could've played piano like Picasso...