Word: taciturn
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...difficult to guess what follows. Like every other so-called modern western, this one features a trusty old ranch hand (nicely played by Rich ard Farnsworth) who dies to symbolize the passing of the Old West. Like every old-fashioned western, Horseman slowly but surely sends its taciturn heroine into the macho hero's arms. Clark's climax, a plain old Shootout, is surprising only because it is capped by an optimistic denouement that contradicts everything that has come before...
After the celebrated Amaretto-and-cream affair six months ago, in which Jordan was accused of throwing his drink at a woman in a Washington bar, the White House issued a 33-page denial. This time its response was confined to a taciturn "We have no leads, and are not pursuing it." But Jordan was irate. "Last night might have been the last straw for me," he said. "People will be lining up to throw pies in my face if I try to go anywhere...
...more torrid, but there are few surprises. The Country Cousin, this year's offering, features a cast familiar to readers of his 20 previous works of fiction: the calculating but sympathetic adventuress from a deprived background; an older sponsor scornful of the conventions of New York Society; taciturn, philandering businessmen with ruddy faces; and their thwarted wives, thirsting for uninhibited affairs. No more unpleasant crowd has been assembled since the days of the robber barons...
Whatever his accomplishments as a gifted literary editor, Maxwell Perkins made life hard for would-be biographers. He was a taciturn and thoroughly decent man who absolutely refused to act out the sort of emotional highs and lows that drive a narrative along. By choice, he did exactly the same thing every working day for 32 years: he sat in the New York City offices of Charles Scribner's Sons and nurtured the talents of others. Because three of those were F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway and Thomas Wolfe, all of whom put their private lives in open books...
There are some artists whose precocity almost seems a curse, and one of them is Frank Stella, a wiry, taciturn American of Sicilian descent who turns 42 next month but whose work must seem (to younger painters) to have been around forever. For ten years, from the moment in 1960 when his black pinstripe paintings were exhibited at Manhattan's Castelli Gallery, Stella's work was one of the main points around which the critical debates of that logorrheic decade precipitated themselves...