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...fiber bundles or Spanish verb endings in the fourteenth century are your greatest joy in life, who is to say that you should spend your time on merely temporal activities? Out of respect, we will not contend with such as you (though we wonder how you know fiber bundles or Spanish verbs are the greatest joy without having tried anything else). But if you think experience offers a plurality of joys, if you have interests extending beyond formal education which you have done nothing to satisfy, then be assured: breadth does not equal academic abandon. If, on the other hand...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Elliptical Man | 2/18/1963 | See Source »

...word 'Jew' is a noun," he advised, "and should never be used as an adjective or verb. To speak of 'Jew girls' or 'Jew stories' is both objectionable and vulgar. The use of the word Jew as a verb-'to Jew down'-is a slang survival of the medieval term of opprobrium, and should be avoided altogether...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Organizations: View from the Ten-Yard Line | 2/8/1963 | See Source »

...couturier's salon. Hachette's producers rented a whole railroad to film the champagne country east of Paris, spent four days tying up traffic in the Avenue de 1'Opéra to film the perils of taking a Parisian taxi, and magnificently illustrated the verb "smell" by going to a pungent source-the Paris...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Education: Gals & Gauls | 12/21/1962 | See Source »

...eleven supermarkets in the past two years, and last fortnight announced plans to open four more. Not only do these Belgian markets dramatically undersell corner grocers (examples: 5? v. 8? for a cake of soap. 52? v. 70? for a pound of cheese), but they have added a new verb to the Flemish language. It is superen, and it means to take a social hour in the supermarket, usually at night and with the family, piloting a pushcart among mountains of cans and valleys of prepacked meats...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Retailing: The Cut-Rate Cornucopia | 6/29/1962 | See Source »

French Troubadour Yves Montand has a bedroom voice in a truck driver's body. His throaty baritone undresses every noun, verb and parenthetical clause that comes slithering past his lips. With hips cocked, eyes squinted against some inner sunburst of passion, and hands expressively molding the air, Montand is one of the most potent love potions ever poured across the footlights. But Montand has more than sex appeal buttoned under his dark brown open-necked shirt. He is a one-man theater of the performing arts, an expert mimic, a clown, a barometric actor who can shift moods, weather...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Theater: French Eros | 11/3/1961 | See Source »

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