Word: yells
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...Atlanta Constitution, suspects that columnists like David Broder and Joe Kraft wake up mornings feeling fine for 30 seconds until they remember who is President, and then their day is ruined. Gulliver puts it down to anti-Southern prejudice, but of course that's just a rebel yell, not a sensible argument...
...become a senior and to have the privilege of living in the Yard was a thrilling event. I have never been able to understand why lowly freshmen are now housed in those ancient buildings. Those kids probably don't even yell for Reinhart on those nights when they're all keyed up for exams. They certainly don't wear caps and gowns around the Yard in the weeks before Commencement. Perhaps nobody does nowadays...
...with illegal efforts to prevent school busing by busing foes. "That's confusing the issue," countered one young liberal. It is such disagreement that gives the show its spark. As Miller admonishes the audience before the cameras roll, "If Roger says some idiotic thing, I want Claire to yell...
Times Square simmers in July. Dodging early morning traffic on what always seems the hottest day of the summer, I wait for the ugly melody of the construction worker's yell at dawn. The faces stare back at me--a tired traffic cop; the bag lady, waking from a night's sleep in front of a burnt-out marquee; the sleazy bum waiting for Caesar's massage parlor to open its doors to all his lust. By the end of the summer I told time by these people. Their habits were so fixed that I knew I was late...
...down with my morning crossword puzzle until the first batch of copy came my way. There was never time to read the paper the way I'd like; inevitably, someone would interrupt me as I neared the Op-Ed page. Like a Pavlovian dog, an early morning editor would yell "Copy!" at the top of his lungs. This didn't mean he wanted a piece of copy, or a copy made of some article. Instead he wanted me, Joe Copy, to run an errand. The errand was usually Times-related, though I made my share of trips to the florist...