Word: unfamiliarly
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Texan Johnson invaded the unfamiliar territory of Boston earlier in the week, and for the first time, after all the years of soft-pedaling criticism of foreign policy in the national interest, really opened up. He struck a cowboy pose atop a police man's horse and declared that the "basic issue in the campaign" was "trying to restore the prestige of the United States." In a speech to a Democratic gathering in Boston's Symphony Hall, Johnson hammered away at his point. "America no longer stands pre-eminent," he said. "Her friends are uncertain...
Around the world, friends, allies and newsmen were beginning to devote themselves to the study of John F. Kennedy and Richard M. Nixon. For most of them, it was largely unfamiliar territory. So far, the most common preliminary response was to find more similarities than differences between the two candidates (see cartoon). More maliciously, Paris' satirical Le Canard Enchainé saw the election as "Tricky Dicky v. Johnny the Pinup Boy." And Paris-Jour called it a "fight of middleweights." On the strength of their own interests, their instinctive prejudices and a considerable amount of downright misinformation, the nations...
...Angeles-and dozens of other airports are also undergoing major face-liftings. New runways are being hacked out of the wilderness in Asia and South America, and the travel-worn airports of Paris, Amsterdam and Mexico City, familiar to thousands of U.S. tourists, will soon sport a trim, unfamiliar look...
...Baritone Vincente Bal-lester in the role of the wealthy burgher Ford. In the second act Ford sang his famous monologue E sogne? a realta? and shortly made his exit. As the orchestra launched into the music of the act's second scene, the audience began chanting an unfamiliar name: "Tibbett! Tibbett! Tib-bett!" Conductor Tullio Serafin waved his orchestra to silence and through the gold curtain stepped a slim young man with a putty-shaped nose to acknowledge an ovation that stopped the opera for 20 minutes...
...talk that I feared I might never use because I was too lazy to write prose.'' The poet's new biography,* by Critic Elizabeth Shepley Sergeant, is little more than an affectionate scrapbook, patiently assembled by an old friend. It is filled with familiar and unfamiliar poems, letters, reviews of his books. pages from old notebooks and Christmas cards. But above all, it contains a steady flow of the talk that Frost, 86, feared might go to waste. Largely taken from conversations, partly from conversational letters and notes, the words show a strong, witty, wise, gently ironic...