Word: patch
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...when, tired of trying to sell baby photographs in Los Angeles, he heard from Montana ranch buddies that you could get $10 just for falling off a horse. In those days they stretched ankle-high wires across fields to make sure that Indians and horses hit the proper patch of dust. Cooper survived, got a new first name (his own was Frank, but his pressagent was homesick for Gary, Ind.) and a feature part in Sam Goldwyn's The Winning of Barbara Worth. Paramount grabbed him from Goldwyn at $125 a week. Studio pressagents tagged...
...tradition of homespun philosophers (Mumford proudly possesses no university degrees), his esthetic judgments are liberally laced with moralizing. Though Manhattan-raised, Mumford has a gardener's love of greenery, likes to weed in the vegetable patch between paragraphs. And the less a city becomes like a village, the more it rouses Mumford's wrath. In a prescient 1922 essay, The City, he warned: "The movies, the White Ways and the Coney Islands, which almost every American city boasts in some form or other, are means of giving jaded and throttled people the sensations of living without the direct...
...painting a picture, he approaches the canvas as if it were a door to be broken into to reveal the hidden life beyond. Each line, dot or patch of color -for example, in Lent, the orange splash at the right-gives the artist a sensation and suggests the next step he must take...
...given by Social Christian (Catholic) Boss Théo Lefevre that Premier Eyskens would not be allowed to succeed himself. "We are casting about for new faces," said Lefevre. Hope was that the next government would conveniently forget to implement the Loi Unique, thus permit Socialists and Catholics to patch over the ugly cleavages opened during the past five weeks. If there was any consolation, it was that the smoldering antagonisms between Walloon and Fleming, Catholic and anti-Catholic, royalist and republican, had spent themselves in inconclusive exhaustion...
...knew the ordeal ahead of me was a long one. In telling the whole truth I might convict an innocent man . . ." The narrator testifies, dry mouth and all, for more than 300 pages about an oily Emir who wants more oil, and a berobed old Britisher with a patch over one eye and a theory that, by Allah, there is petroleum under a certain unpromising patch of ground. The old fellow's bastard son shows up, learns to be an oil geologist in a trice, and shortly is locked in mortal combat with his father. It is this...