Word: blend
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...book store is adaptable in a unique and exciting way. Bare brick and untouched wood blend in well with bright colors. Passim is even more than a book store or a coffee shop, exhibiting works by young artists as well, the latest being only 17 years old. The bookshelves can be pushed aside because Mrs. Juda hopes to have some evening activities, such as theater or poetry readings, once the store is more established...
Britain's economic dilemma is a blend of too much pride and too little selfdiscipline. For centuries Britain enjoyed overwhelming economic and political power for its size, a situation that has left the country accustomed to living beyond its shrunken means. Doubt has taken deep hold that any government-or policy-will overcome the problem. Britain long ago stopped making full use of either its individual resources or its technological know-how. Only if it succeeds in using both will its economy gain the strength to climb out of the present morass...
Founded in 1952 by Amalia Hernandez, a former dancer who remains its director and sole choreographer, the Folklorico fills the stage and the eye with the splendor of a national heritage that is a blend of Indian and Spanish elements. The company's lavish costumes, liberally splashed with gold and feathered beyond a peacock's fondest hopes, would stun the senses even if they were worn by mannequins. The 90 traveling members of the troupe-dancers, singers and instrumentalists-are considerably more than that...
...Vice President delighted two of Washington's most capricious dinner audiences by delivering some of the best political punchlines heard in a long time. Although most of the gags are credited to Laugh-In Writer Paul Keyes, Agnew dropped his lines with professional aplomb, obviously relishing the blend of self-deprecatory humor and sly pokes at his boss...
Grant was a strange blend of phlegm and flame. During the eerie Battle of the Wilderness, he spent the day receiving dispatches, issuing orders-and whittling on twigs. When the battle was over, while hundreds were still burning to death in a forest incinerated by gunfire (a dying Confederate cried over and over again: "My God, why hast thou forsaken me?"), Grant decided he could do no more, went to bed and within minutes was sleeping like a baby. Catton gives another glimpse of this side of Grant's nature by comparing the way he and Sherman smoked cigars...