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Word: lies (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...years, the stone tablet stood on the outskirts of Jedwabne, a memorial to the former Jewish residents of the small Polish town who were killed by the Nazis in World War II. But the memorial was a lie. On a July day in 1941, 1,600 Jews were murdered in Jedwabne in a swift, brutal and barbaric pogrom. Some were clubbed to death, others drowned; the head of one young Jewish girl was cut off and kicked. Mothers were beaten to death with their babies in their arms. As darkness fell, 1,500 Jews were forced into a barn, which...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Poles Confront Holocaust Guilt | 5/2/2001 | See Source »

...Carver's stories - Murakami is Carver's translator - they are unremarkable men, less driven by the ethic to succeed and less enmeshed in the powerful webs of family and business and community than most Japanese, living like college students well beyond their college days. In this, I suspect, may lie some of the popular appeal of Murakami's novels for Japanese and Western readers...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Sayonara Flower Arranging | 4/30/2001 | See Source »

...therein may lie the future - or lack thereof - of Amtrak...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: I'd Love to Love Amtrak — But It's Hard | 4/30/2001 | See Source »

...scene, and the characters again go off into the woods, this time to “see what’s wrong.” Right and wrong intermingle as the characters become uncertain about what they really should do. Conventional fates are turned upside-down: good characters lie, others die and the Witch tells the truth. Characters eventually become aware of their interdependence...

Author: By Amy W. Lai, CONTRIBUTING WRITER | Title: The Trees Are Just Wood | 4/27/2001 | See Source »

...homeless man just died 10 yards in front of my window. Every night around 11 p.m., this man would lie down behind the large concrete slab decorating the Leverett House lawn, cover himself with blue, turquoise and tan blankets and fall asleep. Usually I would only half-notice him, except for the cold nights when I’d feel a stab of regret as I pulled my shade down to my radiator. In the mornings, while I was checking my e-mail or combing my hair, he would wake up between 8 and 9 a.m., stumble around...

Author: By Arianne R. Cohen, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Dying Alone | 4/25/2001 | See Source »

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