Word: celle
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Villas on the Hill. It is the precept of bachelor Mayor La Pira, who for years lived in a single cell in the famed Convent of San Marco, that every man in Florence is entitled to a roof over his head-no matter what the law says. When, in late 1952, yielding to landlords' pleas, the national government began to permit evic-ions from rent-controlled apartments, La Pira took action. "A Christian society is a fraternal society," he proclaimed, "and when even one man is excluded, when even one man lacks bread or a roof, society ceases...
Communication between the Eastern Marxist and Western Christian-whether in courtesies at the summit or in the lower depths of an interrogation cell-is always baffled by language difficulties. The two biggest Communist nations expropriated the language of Tolstoy and Confucius, and interpreters are available. But who will interpret the language of Marxism, which presents problems more complex than the conjugation of a Russian verb or the tonal inflections of Mandarin? That many-splendored monolith, world Communism, is, in fact, a monoglot, whatever national form its utterance takes; it aspires to give a new frame for human thought...
Later, in cell 37 at Cook County jail, Dickie Carpenter recalled again his love of music ("Caruso was the best, but Gigli is a genius"). And what had happened to the boy who loved their voices? "I guess I never felt I had something to give," he said. Then he began...
...Meryman promptly thawed it, tagged it with radioactive chromium, then had it transfused back into his body. Object: to see whether the frozen blood would deteriorate faster than normal. A radiation counter, timing the clicks that Dr. Meryman set off, showed no difference in the rate of blood-cell destruction. Whole blood, now difficult to keep longer than three weeks, could be banked indefinitely after such freezing...
Something about his cell mate's tale clicked in José's memory, and he brooded over it. He asked Abdias to repeat the dates and places. A fortnight ago, as the two men basked in the prison courtyard sun, José blurted out: "Abdias, do you still hate the man who clubbed you?" Abdias replied philosophically: "No, those are the risks of our trade." With a sigh José unburdened himself: "Abdias, my friend, forgive me. I was on the other end of that club. You are supposed to be dead, and I am serving time...