Word: bedding
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...crucial last weeks, it also reflected the extraordinary relationship between the President and his political adviser of nearly 15 years. What does it take to persuade a President, who has a country to run and a reputation to protect and who prefers to go to sleep in his own bed, usually before 10 p.m., to plunge from state to state as though his own survival depended on it, when in fact the opposite is true? The sheer nerve of the White House strategy left even enemies in awe. "What they did was risky as hell," marvels Tony Coelho, a veteran...
...Manas' principal detractor is Professor Montri Boonsaneur, who teaches geological technology at Khon Kaen University and was in charge of an underwater survey prior to construction of the nearby Thai-Lao Friendship Bridge. He says it's impossible that bubbles of methane could form in the river's rocky bed or survive its turbulent flow." I don't want to say the fireballs are man-made, but they're definitely not natural," he says...
...Today, Murakami does much of his writing at an apartment in Omotesando, a chic Tokyo neighborhood. His spartan office there is as businesslike as its inhabitant. Unassuming as ever, he still dresses in jeans, casual shirts and sneakers, runs 10 kilometers a day, watches his diet, goes to bed early and rises before dawn to work. "He has been the same right from the beginning," says Mizumaru Anzai, an illustrator and writer who has known Murakami for three decades...
...more senses than just the visual. As Senator Dunay of the future moves Congressional masses with mere words, Harvard College first-year Dunay moves his lips, vocal chords, and hands, going through all the motions of the legislator par excellence he hopes to become. “Lying in bed at night, I’ll be talking to myself out loud,” Dunay says. “I guess we all think about what it would be like to be able to make a speech on the floor of the Congress or to make a decision that...
There are few things that can drag me from my bed at four in the morning, especially in the middle of a Nor’easter. As I trudged up Concord Avenue in the dark, pummeled by rain, only the thought of Hi-Rise’s bread, straight from the oven, kept me going. I had arranged to observe the pre-dawn bread-making, and through the plate-glass windows the bakery’s light glowed like a beacon—the only sign of life on a dreary morning...