Word: notebooks
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...ever heard "the other version of that last one he sang," or tell him he should go down to the end of the town and "hear the old nigger lady who moans 'em by the hour." Mr. Sandburg has always gone, always listened. He has kept a notebook, jotted down the words and the tunes in strange hieroglyphics comprehensible only to himself. Now he presents them as The American Songbag.* There are some 280, and, like the family piecebag, they are of all colors and patterns. There are songs of sailors, of miners, of lumberjacks, of loggers, of hobos...
...tell neatly the story of a man who loved numerous women; married two of them; survived to see them decide to live with him en trois. At the end they had retreated to other, less complicated amorous arrangements, and he was looking up telephone numbers in the faithful old notebook which had been waiting quietly the entangled while. All this is clumsy; seldom witty; always eminently well played by Lynne Overman...
...Tolstoi, philosopher, sculptor, playwright, political scientist, third son and namesake of the late Russian novelist. Crossing the Date Line eastward in 1917, he fell to thinking about the phenomenon. He noticed that it had made him feel blithe of spirit, hopeful. When he reached Chicago, he wrote in his notebook: "I have made a greater discovery than any man now living?perhaps it is the greatest discovery of all time...
People who had found that they could not go to sleep without reading some new adventure of Mr. Holmes will welcome the news that Author Sir Arthur has made the "discovery of another forgotten notebook of Holmes in a strong box that had been hidden away for years." The twelve stories in The Case Book are conclusive evidence that, despite his dubious doctrines on spiritualism, Sir Arthur has lost none of his persuasiveness in inductive yarn-spining...
...talking about. I used to write little pieces for the papers, book reviews, tattle, editorials on politics, the usual run of shad, come-day go-day palaver. Then something happened. I remember one day I got kind of a desperation, I put down some lines in a notebook, 'I am the poet of slaves and of the masters of slaves. I am the poet of the body and I am the poet of the soul.' That was the beginning of the Leaves . . . Leaves of Grass is more of a person than a book...