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Word: swivels (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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Correspondents, who had infrequent interviews with him, found a thin-lipped man who seldom smiled, never laughed. His office had a settee for visitors (who under Spruance's piercing eye were inclined to state their business briefly), an armless swivel chair and an ordinary desk which he seldom used...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: World Battlefronts: Mechanical Man | 6/26/1944 | See Source »

...obscene anti-Jewish paper, Der Stürmer. Hechtic sample: Anti-Semites are "Spiritual harelips, tormented homosexuals, lonely sadists . . . bile peddlers . . . invalids whose . . . bladders drip and whose hearts are a sackful of worms . . . religious zanies who woo God by spitting in His eye . . . mincing and bepimpled, clapper-tongued and swivel-brained . . . lame ducks...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Aunt Chasha's Umbrella | 4/10/1944 | See Source »

Tough Grind. In Hollywood, Stripteaser Betty Rowland bumped one of her swivel-hips against a wall, landed in the hospital suffering partial paralysis...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Miscellany, Mar. 20, 1944 | 3/20/1944 | See Source »

Witness Mr. Stalin seated more erectly and least comfortably in a nonupholstered swivel-type desk chair of rugged construction, a chair so typical of the ultimate in utilitarianism. . . . His expression reflects perfectly the attributes of his chair. It is that of the executive, the chief, the big shot. With eyes straight to the camera and, therefore, to the people of the world, he seems to sense that he is in the driver's seat, that he is No. 1 man. Yet there is present that suggestion of coldness and suspicion, call it caution or wariness if you will...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Letters, Jan. 3, 1944 | 1/3/1944 | See Source »

Tuesday. Franklin Roosevelt needed a haircut. Tufts of grey hair stuck out over his ears, straggled wispily over the top of his head. Coatless, wearing a white shirt and plaid tie, he leaned back in his swivel chair and waited for some 80 reporters to shuffle into a semicircle before his cluttered desk. The familiar signal flags of weariness were up-an air of fatigued abstraction, a dark web of crow's-feet about his eyes, a deep etching of lines in the loose, sand-grey skin of his face...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The President's Week, Oct. 25, 1943 | 10/25/1943 | See Source »

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