Word: sweatingly
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MICHAEL : I, Michael, shall go and order the heavenly hosts to let him walk on earth without any protection . . . And should he sink down on his knees with the sweat breaking out of him like drops of blood under the burden of the curse of being Man, I shall strengthen him only from afar that he might continue to suffer, just as he gave consolation to the believers, consoling them in order that they might continue to suffer...
...their mothers clambered and danced through the meadows of Manhattan's summer-striped Central Park. It was a grand picnic-the 22nd annual June Walk of the Monongahela Club. Round-faced, genial James J. Hines eased a piggybacking child from his shoulders, doffed his straw boater, wiped the sweat from his face and said proudly: "Kids who came to the first of these things are voters now. They're not all voting my district, but they're voting somewhere...
...camera caught the stare of a bored little girl caught up in a group of gesticulating farmers, flickered over the strained, sweat-lined faces of steelworkers stoking their furnaces, and watched while a painfully earnest schoolgirl in a Warsaw classroom rattled off a quaintly colorful description of the U.S. Revolutionary War. Excerpt: "So the farmers rose up. At the head of the fighters stood a farmer, George Washington. And the distinguished Thomas Jefferson was there too. The great Polish fighters, Kosciusko and Pulaski, also took part in the fight. In 1776 the uprisers were victorious. The Congress...
...make dinner with the Macbeths and Banquo's ghost seem like afternoon tea. And because he had been a ranker who had risen from the gutters of Glasgow, he is a figure of awe and almost superstitious regard to the kilted men who swill their usquebaugh and sweat to master pibrochs (variations on bagpipe tunes). As he warms his "celebrated bottom" before the mess fire (nothing, it should be said to satisfy Sassenach and U.S. curiosity, is worn beneath the kilt), it seems no harm can come...
...slobbing starts as Marine Mitchum, smeared with sweat and beard, rolls over the side of a rubber life raft, staggers through the surf to a palm-fringed island and proceeds, with the hearty cooperation of the sound track, to slurp up several gallons of the nearest fresh-water lagoon. The next thing he sees is a nun, and for all the surprise he shows, the audience might think that nuns just sort of naturally came with tropical islands. But Deborah is dramatically startled to see him. "Naow, le's jus' take it easy, ma'am," says Mitchum...