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Word: hell (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...TIME, I had the feeling that you knew more about producing oil and gas and acidizing than I. So convinced am I that I'll bet a dollar to a slug that you have seen more than one well come in; you know what a hell of a racket three million feet of gas will make coming out of 2" tubing; and just how damn slick a rig floor can get after the first few barrels of Big Injun crude has squirted up and hit the crown pulley and is now raining down through the rig like an April...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Letters, Aug. 2, 1937 | 8/2/1937 | See Source »

...felt so compelled to take account of public interest for good or ill as in the fourth decade of the 20th Century. Putting foot to spade in Europe they have turned over so many clodfuls of dead cultural matter that their most vivid talents. Joyce, Auden, MacDiarmid. Aragon, seem hell-bitten to innocent readers. Among affirmatory fledglings, Revolution or at least the advance of the masses has easily displaced Love and Death...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Conversation by Millay | 7/26/1937 | See Source »

...hell of a sight more profitable that way, but it's a reason that doesn't appeal...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Conversation by Millay | 7/26/1937 | See Source »

...Dean, young petty officer on the cruiser Baton Rouge, was a Texas-born, square-faced, blue-eyed, accomplished sailor who liked "rough weather and lots of hell." In quieter moments he wrote for adventure magazines, read everything from Kipling to Marcus Aurelius. Coming into Bremerton Navy Yard on April 6, 1917, having known since the Baton Rouge left Mexico that war was not far off, Rex had already got himself straight about his own part in it. Uncle Sam was "Uncle Sucker." From now on you only pretended the Allies were in the right, and killed and got killed automatically...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Submarine Fighter | 7/19/1937 | See Source »

policemen's lips were drawn, and they seemed intoxicated with tension. . . . Then it seemed like the blast of a whistle and all hell seemed to break loose. I went down, struck on the left side of my face." Blinded in one eye, he ran to a ditch. A tear-gas bomb exploded at his right, blinding him in the other eye. Stumbling on, he was picked up by some fleeing demonstrators in a car, then dragged out by police, who threw him in a patrol wagon...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: LABOR: Cops | 7/12/1937 | See Source »

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