Word: temperments
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...regularly do, cause us to embrace the wildest fantasies. But they create our suspension of disbelief by getting the familiar little realities of life right. When they don't bother to do that, it feels like an act of contempt. Our attention starts to wander and our temper grows short, the way they do when the home team is down 10-zip in a late inning with the bottom of the order coming up. "Do you believe this?" somebody says. "Nah, let's go," somebody else replies...
...described awkward old maid with a sensible name and big, sensible shoes, a bracing contrast to the precious professionals that the city seasonally absorbs. "I can be impatient," she told reporters last week, preferring to skewer herself rather than let them do it for her. "I do have a temper. My mother accused me of mumbling. I am not a good housekeeper. My fifth-grade teacher said I was bossy. My family thinks I'm opinionated and sometimes arrogant, and they would be happy to supply you with other words...
...both parties the month-long runoff campaign was more clownish than astute. The Democrat, for example, picked on the Republican's quick temper and produced one nasty story from a former Hutchison aide. In 1991 Hutchison, enraged that her assistant Sharon Ammann (daughter of former Texas Governor John Connally) was too slow locating a phone number of a political supporter, "just lost it," said another former employee who corroborated Ammann's account. Hutchison "hit Sharon with a notebook and kept hitting her." Hutchison denied the incident. Ammann remained adamant that it had occurred. Both took polygraph tests -- and passed...
...Duke they paint their faces, wear basketballs on their heads and have bonfires on the campus green. The zillion straight Final Four trips never seems to temper the spirits of the undergrads. More wins, more reason to party. A very simple philosophy...
They'd take up a whole pew, the Weaver girls. "Everybody called us that," says Nan. Five born in seven years. Joanne was Daddy's girl, at least that's what the others claimed. Barb had red hair and matching temper. "Little Nan" was timid and quiet. Then came Sue, then Mary, the baby. They lived a classic Roman Catholic postwar childhood: their father, a bandleader, easygoing and affectionate; his wife a stern but loving homemaker; new outfits, with bonnets, each Easter; the strict, black-and-white doctrine of the Baltimore Catechism. Ice skating at the church rink. Splitting...