Word: tenderness
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...Tender Grass. This was heartening news for the world's neutrals who, in the words of a Burmese diplomat, have sometimes felt like "the tender grass between the feet of two savage buffaloes locked in mortal combat." At this U.N. session the neutralist nations have thrown themselves between the colossi of East and West in the prayerful hope of ending the cold war. Feelings of alarm swept the uncommitted countries at the table thumpings and rocket rattlings of Nikita Khrushchev. They were dismayed by the parliamentary maneuvering of the U.S., which saw no advantage to "renewed" talks between Eisenhower...
Fitzgerald could break the race wide open if he can shake the effects of a cold and a tender leg. The varsity captain has been waiting all fall to produce best effort; when he does, a lot of people are going to be left behind...
...Angeles dental societies, and at East Hollywood's King Junior High School she played the cello. Her principal finds her "not bizarre," but if she is to play the role as Nabokov put it in the novel, she will have to be a "mixture ... of tender dreamy childishness and a kind of eerie vulgarity...
...young lady is sore, it seems, because she is a French army brat and parental love is at parade rest. Papa is a cavalry colonel, more interested in charges than children, while Mama is a Spanish noblewoman too haughty for tender talk. What daughter knows about affection comes from spying on peasant maids and their trooper lovers on a slumbering military post before World War II. And what she learns of life comes from Daddy's batman, a sporting type named Killer, whose off-duty kicks come from impaling jack-lighted wildlife on the iron spikes attached...
...only does Mr. Seeger perform travesties on religious music, accompanying delicate oriental melodies with his down-home two-four banjo rhythm, but he also complements a tender African melody with his own lyrics, composed, he tells us, while pouring concrete for his house on the Hudson River. And they sound like it. They tell, in a strange meter, how loneLEE it is TO watch the lights BLINK off A-cross the riVER in bosTON when you have to GO back to YOUR room aLONE. Poetic "license" is one thing, even for a poet, but wanton distortion of the hillbilly mind...