Word: greys
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...hall at the rear of the chamber stood a large man in his late 40s. He had curly grey hair, swarthy skin and silver-capped front teeth. His name was Dimitrio Tsafendas, and he wore the uniform of a parliamentary messenger, a job for which he had been hired only a month before. Tsafendas was obviously distraught. At lunch with his fellow messengers, he had hardly touched his curry, left early without explanation. Now, as the warning bell summoned the Members of Parliament to their seats for the opening of the session, he refused to run a routine errand requested...
Whether Bennett himself was a good or bad writer was a judgment that his sometimes awed, often contemptuous contemporaries were never able to make. Partly it was because his physical presence was so overwhelming. He was a strutting cockatoo of a man, resplendently tailored, grey hair swept up into a crest, wit as sharp as a honed spur, manner as crude as a clod. Fascinated by the combination of the baroque and the bumptious of the man, Rebecca West once wondered if it would not be better to judge Bennett as a character rather than an author. "He could...
...into the oval office one day recently strutted a dapper dandy in brownish-grey toupee, cake makeup, Kings Man cologne, suede-and-'gator shoes, jeweled cuff links in the shape of a Jewish Torah, and a wristwatch with the letters of his name in place of the numerals. The watch spelled GEORGE JESSEL. The old vaudevillian briskly filled the President in on the war, assured him that he would waste no time in telling the world about the great job the boys were doing out there, and perhaps even winked a few funny lines at L.B.J. It was darn...
...Charlie Whitman and his mother returned together to Florida, he in a grey metal casket, she in a green-and-white one. With hundreds of curiosity seekers gawking and jostling in a rolling, palm-fringed cemetery in West Palm Beach, mother and son were buried with Catholic rites. Charlie had obviously been deranged, said the Whitmans' priest, and was not responsible for the sin of murder and therefore eligible for burial in hallowed ground...
...books have strong qualities in common, and some of the qualities are deplorable. Sick sex and vicious violence recur with obsessive frequency, and so do a number of Eng. Lit. leftovers; several of the new novelists describe clouds that look "like grey wool." At least half of them, however, make nervy experiments in fictional form, and almost all show the kind of ultimate concern with human beings that is no less religious because it calls itself existential. In almost every instance, the writers courageously explore the shape of a new fiction in form and spirit adequate...