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Word: touchings (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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Indeed, things work out rather well for Poppy. At least provisionally, she finds a nice man. She retains her good relations with her friends. Her spirit remains undaunted. She is happy. And she is lucky. As we are, in finding a film that throughout stays believably in touch with lives that are messier, more melodramatic and much less overtly amusing than the title - which must be read ironically - implies...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Happy-Go-Lucky: Chipper with a Twist | 10/10/2008 | See Source »

This new pricing scheme also makes the nano about $100 cheaper than an iPod touch of the same capacity...

Author: By Daniel C. Carroll, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: New iPod Nano Has Fun Features | 10/10/2008 | See Source »

With 195 employees--compared with Harley's 10,000--Buell relies on teamwork, ingenuity and a personal touch to churn out top-notch bikes at affordable prices. Its cycles aren't mass-produced, which is part of the allure that distinguishes the brand from better-financed Japanese competitors. "We need to be more nimble and entrepreneurial in spirit to compete against much larger companies," says Jon Flickinger, president of Buell Motorcycles...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Harley-Davidson's Wildest Child | 10/9/2008 | See Source »

...examples of irony” through its use of free indirect style. The same technique also allows the fiction reader to inhabit a young girl’s confusion in Henry James’s novel “What Maisie Knew.” The juxtaposition is a touch precious—just a sappy soundtrack away from a literary criticism Hallmark moment—but it plays into Wood’s theory of fiction.If, as Wood suggests, fiction is a space between mimicry and invention, a “house,” then its creation depends...

Author: By Madeleine M. Schwartz, CONTRIBUTING WRITER | Title: 'How Fiction Works' Works Just Fine, Thank You | 10/9/2008 | See Source »

...breast, shrieking like wild horses or a chorus of whores:—Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes.They whispered in, hissed in, licked the whorl of her ear.—Oh, yes.—He is here. He has come for his mountain flower!She must touch him. She extended a trembling hand, admired the tips of her nails as they glided forward, like translucent rosebuds opening to the sun. The raised hills of paint pierced the sensitive throbbing mounds of her fingertips. She traced the musculature of his arm, the delicately shadowed length of him.From a netherworld...

Author: By Lesley R. Winters, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: The Stable Boy | 10/9/2008 | See Source »

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