Word: warmth
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...character, a weakness in the book. What we see of her, for the most part, is a silent, violently angry, incommunicative and insensitive rebel. For a long while she won't speak with Keyes, and plots to get him out of the car. Only occasionally do we see the warmth, sensitivity, and compassion that move her. These scenes, when she breaks down and cries in fear to Keyes, when she talks of her boyfriends Regis, when she describes her unspeakable fear and horror when raped at gunpoint, are the finest in the novel...
...Trumpets. The result, a two-act, two-hour TV opera, was broadcast jointly last weekend by the BBC and America's NET. As it turned out, Owen Wingrave was something less than Britten's best. Though carefully modulated for the home listener, the vocal writing showed little warmth or melodic appeal. The score, for a busy 46-piece orchestra, with snares and trumpets to underline the military motif and bright, chiming, exotic percussive passages more suggestive of Bali than Victorian England, rarely conveyed resonances of gothic mystery...
...describes, and he possesses qualities which have attracted him a great deal more popularity in inner circles than his methods or policies would seem to warrant. He has none of the pedigreed arrogance of his predecessors, and when he likes, he exudes a personal charm and warmth that have struck immense sympathy among those who associate with him. Even those who have left his staff over policy decisions are quick to defend his intellect and his motivations. And if personality traits do not redeem bad decisions and repugnant policies, they do a great deal to make them more understandable...
...about Jackson that plagues him. For so long he has been the champion of the aircraft industry. "Mr. Boeing." Somehow he is that image of the perpetual proponent of military preparedness. There is something of mothballs about it: cold warrior in the year of the great search for human warmth. His impeccable liberal credentials on social affairs, economics, conservation are lost to view...
Hubert Humphrey, dean of the class. Scarred and bruised, but jumping and bubbling, the glands still exuding their special juices. It is odd how good he looks up close, but how old he seems from a distance. There in front of the desk he bathes you in warmth and enthusiasm. The mouth turns down naturally, and that, along with his pointed jaw, could make him seem mean, but he never lets it happen. Humphrey laughs uproariously and shows his visitors a little plaque that says TO HELL WITH DO-GOODERS. He savors a man of light heart...