Word: width
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Eble scores the top-level schools for their lack of concern with what happens in the majority of colleges. "Columbia University and Columbia Teachers College, physically separated by the width of a street, are intellectually separated by a moat as deep as ignorance." Eble thinks "the professional study of higher education seems certain to pass into the control of education departments of schools of second or third or tenth rank." "The heart of the matter is the unwillingness of the guardians of knowledge to examine the premises by which they live... Part of the energies now devoted to discovering...
...Harry Belafonte do the twist, and wondering what the stock market would do next.* But, as it does at many Bobby-and-Ethel parties, the 40-ft. by 16-ft. swimming pool took over. As a kind of gimmick, Ethel had thrown a 2-ft.-wide bridge across the width of the pool. Upon it, smack in the middle, were a table and two chairs. At one moment, Ethel was sitting there with John Glenn. Then Glenn was sitting there alone-while Ethel was floundering about in the water, bright red evening gown and all. Later, no one seemed quite...
...tailored for last week's Open, Oakmonth's string-bean fairways had been tightened to only 30 yds. in width on some holes, and the enormous greens had been shaved until only one-eighth inch of grass remained. Par had been lowered from 72 to 71, so tough that only 19 sub-par rounds were shot during the entire tournament. The lead skipped around as though the golfers were playing hot potato: Gene Littler, the first-day leader with a sparkling 69, sank rapidly to a tie for seventh, and five players held the lead at one point...
...loudspeakers are to be heard, seen; Bruce has hidden his speakers hind a bamboo screen (which is acoustically transparent, of course). The illusion is perfect. Sound comes from the whole width of the basement, and it has prising depth as well...
...testifies in a trial as an eyewitness to events he never saw, and later, on seduction bent, "enters" a girl's life by pretending he knew her dead brother. In the telling, everything is hemstitched with the heaviest of literary embroidery. (A telephone booth is "a slim, body-width oratory . . . a temple of self-abuse, saving synagogue of the air.") Once in a while there are a few glints of true gold. ("What we do not do persists, classic and perfect, beneath what we do. The final admixture is the judgment.") But the total effect of Author Calisher...