Word: winded
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...impatient brush of a young Italian new realist whips enamel paint around melanges of brown wrapping paper and canvas, laying waste a work of art with the gusto of a wild wind assailing a wall plastered with posters. Through...
...test of strength with military brass jealous of his influence. To get the upper hand, he recently called in the army and navy chiefs of staff one at a time to inform them of a new system of rotating the three military staff command positions every 18 months. Getting wind of Reid's maneuver, officers of the powerful air force grew restless, and coup rumors crackled through the capital. Immediately, Reid called in the air force chief of staff-either accept the rotation plan, he put it bluntly, or lose your commission. Reid won the facedown, now boasts...
...Wind from the East. Suslov, a cadaverous, humorless court theoretician who served Stalin long before Khrushchev came to the fore, drove home his attack by disclosing that Old Stalinists Georgy Malenkov, Vyacheslav Molotov and Lazar Kaganovich, Sinophiles all, had been ousted secretly from the Communist Party in 1961. Suslov declared that the "antiparty" trio subscribed to the selfsame heresies as Mao. He singled out Molotov-who had variously been Soviet Premier (in 1930) and first editor of Pravda (1912)-for particular vituperation. Harking back to the murderous Soviet purges of the 1930s, Suslov accused Molotov of attempting to surpass Stalin...
...leonine wind prowled through the saw grass, rattling the few gaunt thornbushes that dot the banks of the Zambezi River near Kasane. Potbellied kids squatted in the shade of round, white-walled mud huts while their mothers hacked with mattocks in the maize patches. Down at the riverbank, "Captain" Nelson Maibolwa puttered with twin 18-h.p. outboard motors slung on a ramshackle wood-and-iron pontoon. Behind him flowed the sun-dappled, grey-green Zambezi, where crocodiles, hippos and shoals of saber-toothed tiger-fish eternally wait their prey. There came the sound of a laboring truck engine, and brawny...
Making the point in music required a storm of inventiveness, and Gerhard, 67, proved himself to be a resourceful composer. Violin bows drawn across cymbals' edges make their pale, tortured protest as they create an eerie, shimmering climate of fear. A nail file raked across piano strings evokes wind against telegraph wires. The murmur and patter of the rats in the streets is sounded by cellists tapping clamped strings...