Word: whisperer
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...Whisper Who Dares. Rather the reverse. The book notes some of the minor agonies of a lifetime trying to escape from literary renown: "Now Marmaduke, you can tell your friends you've shaken hands with Christopher Robin." Milne mentions his toe-curling horror at hearing classmates at boarding school play a record of Vespers on the Victrola: "Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares! Christopher Robin is saying his prayers." Enchanted Places is eloquent about the joys of countryside, the felicities of light verse. Milne writes with wit and humane perception about his later relationship with his father. In a space...
...hear the always-humorous sounds of a bed creaking under the weight of a couple laboring away in their pleasure-making. In a moment there is the thud of something knocking repeatedly against wood. "Ugh...move down some, I'm hitting my head," a female voice can barely whisper between her increasingly heavy pants. The sounds of wriggling in the bed. The panting continues...
Ford's professor, in fact, professes no particular ideology, though he is a Republican, and chooses not to whisper his own views into the President's ear. "The cause I push is a kind of elevated common sense," he says. Goldwin prefers to act as distiller and conveyor of the ideas of others. He has good credentials for that role. A native New Yorker who fought with the U.S. Cavalry in World War II, Goldwin graduated in 1950 from St. John's College in Annapolis, Md. He spent the next nine years editing reading materials and training...
...about this enough. Nobody's really said why we want a union. There's even some people who aren't here." The speech is hardly a brilliant stroke of organizing strategy; these meetings are supposed to be anything but long self-explanatory sessions. Schroder and Van Delft start to whisper and shuffle papers and the secretaries, their lunch hours almost over, shift in their seats and begin to get up to leave. The young man gives imploring gazes around the room as the secretaries file out, off to an afternoon back at their offices typing and answering the phone. Schroder...
...land is much as it must have been in colonial times, when the Six Nations Iroquois Confederacy held most of northeastern New York and portions of Vermont, Ontario and Quebec. The trees still whisper in the chill wind, and the delicate tracks of deer fleck the snow. Yet the primeval peace is reguarly broken now by the roar of a silver Porsche gunning out of the camp gate onto Big Moose Road, heading for the Food Town market or the Laundromat two miles away. These are 20th century Indians, fired by the militancy that prompted the occupations of Alcatraz...