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...housewife who appeared at the emergency room of University Hospitals in Cleveland could not swallow and could scarcely talk. Her tongue was swollen and intensely painful. Through these impediments she managed to tell the doctor that while tending her house plants that afternoon, she had bitten a piece of stalk from a handsome specimen with striped leaves, called Dieffenbachia. Her pain was so severe that the doctors had to give her a morphine-type drug. After a while she was able to take, though painfully, a little aluminum-magnesium hydroxide as an antidote to whatever poison she might have swallowed...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Toxicology: Look Out for Those Plants & Spices | 7/19/1963 | See Source »

Balanchine's notion of the Orient is clearly more erotic than Mayuzumi's. The music is fragmented and ethereal, with no hint of sensuality in rhythm or dynamics. The dance, though, is something else again. The lovers stalk each other with expressionless hunger, and the postures they strike between movements are clear imitations of love. Balanchine did not intend to copy the traditional Bugaku, in which only men appear, but those who are misled by the borrowed title are likely to think that if such goings on are traditional in the Imperial Household, never mind the Ginza...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Dance: Never Mind the Ginza | 3/29/1963 | See Source »

...pant on the way downcourt. Then Coach Fred Schaus yells, "Dick, get in there!" and Barnett unfolds his full 6 ft. 4 in. and trots onto the floor. To serve melodrama properly, he should promptly rattle off half a dozen baskets, put life back in the Lakers and stalk back to the bench with the cheers of Angelenos echoing in his ears. And that is exactly what Dick Barnett does, with such regularity that he has become one of the main props under the Lakers' ranking at the top of the western division of the National Basketball Association...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Sport: The Sixth Man | 3/8/1963 | See Source »

...Marceau's art has an autumnal seriousness, his artistry bubbles with Gallic springtime vivacity. He mixes sweetness with strength. His head wobbles like a flower on a too-slender stalk, but his feet are sprung steel on points when he dances his soundless ballets. He is a theatrical master of total illusion. When he climbs an imaginary ladder, the rungs creak; when he leans against a nonexistent bar, the bar leans back with wooden stubbornness; when his outthrust palms slide feverishly along a make-believe wall, the air turns brick-solid...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Theater: Poet of Silence | 1/11/1963 | See Source »

...retelling it moves as smoothly as the oiled gears of a stretching rack. The reader's disbelief is abruptly suspended-as from a gibbet-as the rich young widowed duchess runs off with her lover Antonio, and her brothers, the bloody Ferdinand and the scheming Cardinal, stalk her to earth for profit and incestuous love...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Disbelief on a Gibbet | 11/2/1962 | See Source »

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