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Word: swallowable (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1980-1989
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Usage:

...however, lots of ferns, rotting logs, pine trees, deciduous trees, and horse-leavings. Once I emerged from the woods to find a familiar red-and-white shuttle bus at the entrance, bearing Biology students out for a serious day's work. But the Forest is big enough to swallow up any crowd; certainly it is among the most peaceable corners of this University...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: Far-Flung Harvard | 10/13/1981 | See Source »

...cried. My father found it difficult to swallow at dinner. Our dog--sensing our grief--didn't even circle the table waiting for an opportunity to filch our suppers. We all resolved that the Redskins would "have a date at Super Bowl VIII." Alas, it was never...

Author: By Caroline R. Adams, | Title: Scalped | 10/6/1981 | See Source »

...year, plans have been drawn up, and architects have been hired. And no one has gone to court. The reason is simple: the University and the neighbors worked out a compromise. Harvard agreed to build structures the same size as those in the bordering neighborhood, the neighbors agreed to swallow their minor objections and let the project progress without years of costly delay. The discussions are now nearing completion; it is worth hoping that they will serve as a model for working out future tensions...

Author: By William E. Mckibben, | Title: Fork in the Road | 9/28/1981 | See Source »

...frustration so profound that it exhausts body and morale. Burnout, in advanced states, imposes a fatigue that seems-at the time-a close relative of death. It is the entropy of the other-directed. Even the best worker-especially the best worker-will often, when thwarted, swallow his rage; it then turns into a small private conflagration, the fire in the engine room. A race of urban nomads who have wandered far from family roots tends to turn work into the spiritual hearth, a chief source of warmth and support. When the supervisor proves to be an idiot, when...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Essay: The Burnout of Almost Everyone | 9/21/1981 | See Source »

ROLL CALL, 7:07 a.m. The Hill Street precinct comes to disorder. Detectives, patrolmen and patrolwomen, officers and desk jockeys shuffle through the squad room, find seats, swallow some coffee and try to ignore the day ahead. Sergeant Phillip Freemason Esterhaus (Michael Conrad), a mountain of meat and gristle with a smile that could crack ice, is briefing his charges on the new day's agenda. "I'd like to interject a personal observation," he announces. "It seems that we've reached a new low, graffiti-wise, in both the men's and women...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Video: Too Good for Television? | 9/14/1981 | See Source »

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