Word: trenches
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...course in legal procedure. Among his 20 students, Eckardt certainly stood out, by virtue not only of his 350-lb. frame but also of his blustery tales of having worked at various times for the FBI and the CIA. Eckardt, says Crowe, "lives in a world of shadows and trench coats." Also in the class was Saunders, 24, the pastor of a small evangelical congregation in suburban Gresham. Rotund and clean cut, with the zeal of a Boy Scout, Saunders signed up for the course because of his commitment to defending religious freedom...
...years. Doyle's gray-and-black herringbone was of an elegant European design that he now considers a bit flashy. The vibrant blue of Laughlin's five-year- old down coat had begun to fade. Kermani's dark blue raincoat had become too tight. Shaughnessy thought the brown trench with the bright red lining was starting to look like Columbo's. Scott had purchased a new, gold-colored overcoat to replace the sturdy dark gray mohair that sheltered him through years of commuting from Fairfield, Connecticut...
Then he tumbled into another trench of depression and Nembutal. Ordinary politics couldn't reconcile Genet's leftist attachment to the dispossessed and his infatuation with a world of muscular order. The civic-minded gay activism he saw emerging in his later years was too middle class for him, one more sign that vice wasn't what it used to be. Implacable tough guys were more to his taste, the Black Panthers and the terrorist Baader Meinhof Group or the Palestinians, a whole nation of the dispossessed. By instinct he submitted moral problems to an aesthetic judgment. He opposed attempts...
Suddenly, sniper bullets spit into the dirt along the top of the trench. Down below the ridge, plum orchards in spring bloom conceal the Muslim lines. Exploding artillery shells trigger small avalanches along the rain-loosened earth walls. A young Serb slides into the trench, out of breath from his dash across a meadow of buttercups pocked by mortar craters. He has a question to ask that is important enough to risk his life. "Why does the world want to destroy us?" he wants to know. "We are victims...
...everything. Seamstresses are hunched over exquisite embroidery. Bodice? Belt? So far the delicate pieces have no discernible shape. The designer, a robust, immaculately tailored figure who seems to be everywhere yet remains cool amid the hubbub, warns two tailors not to put so many stitches in a vibrant aqua trench coat. "Every stitch can pull," he sighs. "Silk is a very hard fabric to tailor...