Word: twilighted
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...Stewart as the embodiment of the aw-shucks American hero is really to patronize him. His true achievement is to have reflected the changing, aging, increasingly troubled face of America, from its early days as the new big likable kid on the block of world power to the questioning twilight between World War II and Vietnam...
Unlike Henry Fonda or Burt Lancaster, Stewart did not have the luck to star in melancholy-twilight masterpieces; his final films were mostly amiable and mundane. He eased into late maturity with rueful good humor, telling director Peter Bogdanovich, "After 70 it's all patch, patch, patch." And he remained touched by his celebrity. "We were coming out of Chasen's one night," says Bogdanovich, "when a man put his hand out and said, 'Mr. Stewart, I don't guess it means much to you, but I want you to know I think you're wonderful.' Jimmy had taken...
Images keep recurring, crisscrossing, gaining new associations in verses that have the noble radiance of stained glass, grave but full of light. In his twilight hours, the poet often berates himself for not having hymned the "unrelenting mercy of light" and the "shallows' scriptures" of his native St. Lucia as he should. In the end, however, he realizes that what has sustained him all along are the "immortelle" and "wild mammy-apple" of his "generous Eden." As the waves of his melodious argument wash up at last on the shores of thanksgiving and affirmation, one realizes that there...
...students that upon graduation they are to seize the rewards available to capitalist elites, not that they are responsible for identifying American dilemmas and agitating to solve them. One of the few voices of dissent at the College is Professor Cornel West, who writes that America is currently a "twilight civilization" that is in dire need of fundamental re-evaluation...
...walk through the Yard on a pink evening when the air rests heavily on the trees and the lights of Memorial Church glow through the haze of twilight, I wonder what it will mean to leave this place in three weeks. I stand at the intersection of paths in Tercentenary Theatre and think of what James Bryant Conant '14 said during Harvard's tercentenary year of 1936: "He who enters a university walks on hallowed ground." What will I miss about this hallowed ground? And what will I carry with...