Word: stomach
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...sufferance of the Soviet government, Eleanor Roosevelt abruptly called off her expedition. Said she: "It would have been impossible for me to do an adequate reporting job . . . without the assistance of a trained magazine journalist or of a man who could speak and read the Russian language." Without stomach for "being at the complete mercy of [a Soviet] interpreter," Mrs. Roosevelt added: "I feel that the Soviet officials, in not granting a visa for a reporter to accompany me, are trying to force me to go to Russia on their terms and are . . . treating me the same way they tried...
...Romp. The tuba yawned selfconsciously through a mass of quavers like a gigantic empty stomach, rumbling from note to note, fluffing some quick passages, squawking agonizingly slowly through deep bass notes. Then came the cadenza, which was really too intricate for a tuba. The instrument cleared its throat and got going. But soon the movement ended in a romp, with orchestra and tuba neck and neck. The second movement came off beautifully. In a slower, sustained tempo. Catelinet poured out a rich sound, often booming up from the bass into a fruity contralto. Warmed up now, he launched into...
...burn up her fat. Heavens! You're too weak to do it on a starvation diet. Shovel down big helpings, and you can develop a hollow leg for food. When I'm not hungry at all, I often gobble three hot dogs just to keep my stomach busy." The Blair diet's only taboo: hard liquor...
When Dr. Hayes told Mrs. Charles Howarth in November, 1951 that she should have part of her stomach removed, he added that for the operation he would need Dr. Walters' help. In fact, he telephoned Walters while Mrs. Howarth and her husband were present. But months later, she learned that instead of Surgeon Walters' assisting Physician Hayes, it had been the other way round. Because she had not known in advance that Walters would perform the actual operation-and since he had never examined her-this was a violation of medical ethics...
...Cover) When he advances, greasy with makeup, to his daily toil, a motion-picture actor is engulfed-profile, esthetic sensibilities and nervous stomach-in an atmosphere depressingly reminiscent of a submarine dockyard. The sound stage in which he works is as cavernous and gloomy as a wharfside warehouse. The day's set, thrown up in a distant corner as if to dramatize the phoniness and gullibility of man, is bathed in a glare of blue-white light as blinding as that from an arc welder's torch. Half a hundred hairy union men tinker stolidly with furniture, electrical...