Word: streets
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Like Gaul, the domain of Harvard is divided into three parts. In the center is the Yard, birthplace of Harvard, which now contains Freshman dormitories and College classrooms. To the north, across Cambridge Street, stretches the empire of the graduate schools and laboratories. On the south side of Massachusetts Avenue are the lairs of upperclassmen, reaching down to the Charles River, across which stand the Business School and Stadium...
...argued long and earnestly with a friend in Denver, a 38-year-old corporation lawyer named Robert Lawrence Stearns. Dr. Norlin was trying to persuade his friend to come to his university as dean of its law school. Conservative Mr. Stearns, who had already made his mark in 17th Street, Denver's financial centre, was hard to persuade. At length Dr. Norlin exclaimed: "Better men than you have taken the vow of academic poverty!" Like many a better man before him, Mr. Stearns took the vow and went to Colorado...
Some papers, like the Nashville Tennesseean, went shouting out into the street at the sinking of the Athenia: "German frightfulness . . . again roams the seas. . . . This nation wants no war, but there is no question where its sentiments lie." Others, like the Baltimore Evening Sun, remained stiffly in the parlor: "Neutral, as a nation, we are. And neutral we must be. A nation cannot afford the luxury of living-room emotions...
Headquarters of the British Ministry of Information is a tall, white stone building in Bloomsbury (taken over from the University of London), a mile away from Fleet Street. Here are issued all official press bulletins. A teletype printer flashes them to newsrooms and agencies in Fleet Street. But most reporters, British and foreign alike, get their news direct from the mimeograph, write their copy in the great hundred-foot-square entrance hall of the Ministry, gas masks slung over their shoulders as they work, surrounded by thick mugs of bitter India...
...child, slept in a barracks: the soldiers "assaulted" him. This shocking experience, which sent him shuddering home, caused not merely a "revulsion," says Author Starkie, but a sensual "revelation." At home, Rimbaud set out to shock the respectable citizens. He would stroll, dressed like a tramp, down the main street during the sacred apéritif hour, smoking a short pipe and, "what was considered most outrageous of all," smoking it bowl downwards. During the Paris Commune, Rimbaud picketed his native shops, shouting: "Beware! Your hour is at hand! Order is vanquished!" When Poet Verlaine, who admired Rimbaud...