Word: utters
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...Vladimir and Estragon he presents two symbols of humanity bravely living on even though Godot--the word at least suggests God if that is not its meaning--never does arrive to relieve their misery. Some critics have felt that the play ends in discouragement and a sense of utter emptiness, but the two hoboes are noble to the extent that they can keep on hoping and waiting, and so far at least Waiting for Godot is a work of encouragement...
Although Athens intimated that Makarios had turned down the plan, the British (who control the flow of information from the Seychelles) insisted that their two emissaries were still "explaining" the proposed constitution to Makarios. If Makarios were to accept the plan, with reservations, and utter some noises unfavorable to continued terrorism, the British indicated, they would return him to Cyprus. Last week, to the dismay of the Greeks, the U.S. State Department put in a word for the British proposal as "a first step" toward a peaceably negotiated settlement...
...Christians. Stirred by what he heard, Evangelist Leader Barnhouse held a conference with top Adventists at his Pennsylvania farm. Wrote he: "We are delighted to do justice to a much maligned group of sincere believers, and in our minds and hearts take them out of the group of utter heretics like the Jehovah's Witnesses, Mormons and Christian Scientists, to acknowledge them as redeemed brethren and members of the Body of Christ...
There was no air of Christmas holiday in Andau's refugee camp. Men, women and children slept in utter exhaustion on straw pallets. A middle-aged woman awoke with a start, already weeping. She stared around in hysterical terror. Near her, a young man gazed emptily at the ceiling, suddenly leaped from his mat, clutched a filthy rag to his mouth and ran for the door, vomiting as he went. A little girl danced happily around the room, holding a tattered rag doll to her breast, then sat down on the dirty floor and cried soundlessly, helplessly...
...counterman as she ordered weak tea. Her husband, a tall, stooped, somber man in a sports jacket, remained aloof. His heavy, bald dome wrinkled uneasily; his face drooped; his mouth was firmly shut. He folded and unfolded his big hands, cracking a knuckle occasionally and gazing, with utter absorption, at the garish, commonplace surroundings. His blue-grey eyes shone steady and intense as the crack of dawn...