Word: hilltop
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Natural Art and Fine Art met, last week, in sunny congress on a California hilltop at the western terminus of the Lincoln Highway, overlooking the burnished haze of San Francisco. There stands California's memorial to her War dead, the Palace of the Legion of Honor, an edifice filled with many treasures, including the life of Joan of Arc in Gobelin tapestries, gift of France...
Last week in a red brick house on a Washington hilltop a man strove to out-midge the midge in public unimportance. He wanted to hush all mention of his name. The only shadow he wanted to cast was his own wavering outline against the library wall opposite the open fire...
...hilltop of one of the many hills on the ranch, where they live, is crowned by beautiful buildings of Spanish architecture surrounded by beautiful gardens of ever-blooming, gorgeous flowers and orchards of orange, peach and cherry trees. The interior of these houses, one of which presents the aspect of an old cathedral in Southern Spain, and the other three-guest houses*-are furnished and finished to harmonize with the exterior of these beautiful buildings. Old doors and door frames, mantels, beds, tables, cabinets, priceless wood carvings, paintings, tapestries from famous places in Italy, Spain and France of the 13th...
Jiddu Krishnamurti (TIME, Sept. 6, 1926, May 9, 1927) far from the flats of India where he had been born, far from the paunchy side of famed 80-year-old Dr. Annie Besant who had raised him to be "a new world leader," was standing upon the hilltop, chanting a Vedic hymn; he carried a flaming torch which, with a graceful stoop, he applied to a pile of carefully prepared faggots. The faggots went up in a cloud of smoke and flame; Krish-namurti's disciples, of whom a thousand sat upon the slope of the hill, drew a breath...
...indolent, ill-natured Negroes move slowly about their business. It would be incredible that wars had ever been waged under that muffling sky, as heavy as a curtain, that a splendid emperor had ruled the ruinous country- were it not for the fortress which still stands up on the hilltop, a black fist against the sky, the citadel of Christophe, the monument of a man born no one knows where, mysteriously named, a slave and a king, whose enemies defeated him. There is a rumor that Christophe with his own hands, at night, buried gold in the huge walls...