Word: wonder
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...head, strong with noble features, accentuated, regular, intelligent eyes seeing clearly, spiritually. Her mind clear and lucid. Masculine in her voice, in all her walk..." Her hands were all of one piece, rather than having articulate fingers. Though these extraordinarily made Gertrude Stein the rage of Paris later, little wonder that she did not delight the Harvard undergraduates...
...trying to run the Grand National," moaned Dr. Caroll M. Williams, professor of Biology, yesterday. Dr. Williams, who recently found in humans a juvenile hormone that may possibly control aging, has been engulfed by requests for what deluded octogenarians seem to believe is a "miracle rejuvenator," a "Peter Pan" wonder drug...
...drivers, test pilots and United Nations truce teams, the Continental Casualty Co. (assets: $419,761,432) was ready to solve one of the insurance industry's greatest longtime problems: a low-cost hospital-surgical plan for persons 65 and over. With the help of International Business Machines' wonder-working 705 computer, Continental devised a radical new policy procedure that cuts costs sharply and comes close to automating insurance for oldsters...
...restored at least a dozen previously deleted episodes, but most of them make the modern reader wonder why the old man should have been prevented for so long from rattling his dead bones. Today Mark Twain's often irreverent notions about God, Bible and his fellow men seem no more fearsome than a day in a college classroom. By the lights of modern determinist psychology, for instance, there is scarcely anything startling in this statement: "Sometimes a man is ... a born scoundrel-like Stanford White*-and upon him the world lavishes censure and dispraise; but he is only obeying...
There is an occasional small masterpiece like Mihail Prishvin's His First Point, a wonderfully funny dog story, but most of the tales have the upbeat endings and moral preachments common to slick magazine fiction in the U.S. At their best, the stories are filled with the continuing Russian love of the vast land: there are hard gallops through Caucasian meadows, hunters' frosty dawns, quiet hours in the white nights and birch woods of the north. Without the skill of such masters as Turgenev and Chekhov, the Soviet writers are still modestly working in the same vein...