Word: stared
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...even keel is projecting faint disgust at everyone and everything in every movie; he even breathes half-sarcastically, jaded beyond belief. Here it's not a world-wise jaded: the landscape of his face is as dissipated as the roads and stations--all blear, stare, and past-drunk. This is the heavy-lidded look of a Robert Mitchum, except that his moves are quicker: he's dead and jaunty at the same time. The adroitness comes from doing everything with ceremony: never has anyone ever used a napkin with more style, only the style is devilish and cynical...
Most of those seated in the church did not look at the sheets handed to them. Instead, they continued to stare at the altar, their faces in-different as they watched the priest, who flipped through the pages of his Bible in search of the day's reading. Finally, after the prayers had been distributed and the silence was broken only by a dog barking in the plaza outside, the padre began to read in Spanish, his monotone voice dry and perfunctory. After he had read a few lines, his assistant, who, stood to the left of the altar, read...
Only an aquiline nose and a pair of scuffy cheeks peeked out from behind the purdah of colored glasses, gray muffler, and hotel towel anchored Arab-style by a pillbox chapeau. But the imperious stare, the twitching extremities and the spindly silhouette of Bob Dylan, 32, belied the Bedouin disguise. The erstwhile revolutionary folkie, rock-'n 'roll innovator and countrified cop-out was back after an eight-year absence from concert touring. Perched atop a hotel couch in Philadelphia (the second of 21 cities in his current six-week tour), Dylan was solidly re-ensconced as the reigning...
William R. Corson, the newest recruit, stands in curious contrast to his brethren. A retired Marine Corps colonel-a veteran of World War II, Korea, Viet Nam and duties with the CIA - he is a clean-shaven, shorthair type. His level stare could still panic any ex-G.I. who meets him with shoes unpolished. But Corson's bill of particulars against the republic is far from novel. In fact, it is sobering to recognize how closely his analysis resembles that of the New Left six or seven years ago, minus the hysterical rhetoric...
...flown all over the world with Graham to organize local counseling programs to supplement Graham's message. In striking contrast to the sophisticated, glamorous, powerful men at the top, they are homey, plodding yes-men; they do drudge work; they carry pamphlets detailing The Way; they stutter and stare blankly when asked questions that aren't in the pamphlets. They are the peddlers. The glamorous leaders are the front men. And Billy Graham is their product--a very marketable product...