Word: stone
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...hood, hammering on the windshield with his shoe. A large stone cracked the glass after the boy was pulled off. Again the car sliced through the crowd, was nearly cut off by a herd of cattle but, after colliding heavily with a cow, slipped past. All along the route to the embassy it was met by a barrage of mud, stones and assorted filth. Further back waved crudely lettered signs: "Go home, little dog Rountree." "Rontry, do not step on our beloved land with your bloody feet!" Waiting at the embassy gate was a truckload of mobsters chanting, "Go home...
...works, says Garriott, is that the satellite broadcasts its signal in all directions. Some of the waves pass around the earth, just as water flows around a stone. Meeting on the opposite side, they come to a sort of focus at the point on the earth that is farthest from the satellite. There they reinforce each other enough to be picked up by listeners below...
...self for the sake of others is surely one of the profoundest experiences that human beings have attained, and it is not often that this experience has been so sharply dramatized as it is in the life of Gladys Aylward. Something of the woman's flame-simple, stone-actual spirit is unquestionably preserved in the film, but all too often the religious force of her example is prettily dissipated in the delusive grandeurs of the wide screen, and safely explained away in entertainingly heroic tropes and grossly commercial moments of the heart...
...three musketeers of modernity. Mayakovsky's poetry was like a shot in the streets. He became the Bolshevik poet laureate; but Big Brother's embrace was crushing, and in the end he killed himself. In his book Safe Conduct, Pasternak conjures up "our State" as the "stone guest" at the funeral. Esenin (who was married for a time to Dancer Isadora Duncan) was an untutored rustic songbird, who pined away in the Soviet cage and also died by his own hand...
...their proper places. (And, though several American dramatists are still his superiors, he has for the moment an advantage over them, in that he has no descendants of his own to stale his freshness.) These are in a sense negative virtues, but the absence in his work of abrupt stone walls of ideological limitation and piercing false notes of literary imitation is refreshing in the theatre of Maxwell Anderson and Ketti Frings...