Word: smells
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...realize why the Harvard-Radcliffe Chemical Society this week opened a lunchroom in the basement of the Mallinckrodt Laboratory. The lab slaves, whose day is so crammed for time that they must eat hurried box lunches, finally have a room to eat in that's out of smell of the salts and ethers of their profession. One of a number of projects financed by the proceeds from the laboratories' coke machine, the lunchroom has curtains, a radio, a hotplate, and space enough to hold 20 people. The Society claims the room will serve for intellectual as well as nutritive exchange...
...gentle art of diplomacy become such a grim business? Because "the survival of Totalitaria" depends primarily on "bad relations with Western democracies," wrote Lord Vansittart, for eight-years the head of Britain's diplomatic careerists, in the current Foreign Affairs. "There is a smell of the jungle about these dense growths of words which smother old conceptions like voluble creepers," he said. "Part of our species is being conducted by sedulous apes back to the treetops...
...generating power. Babson's anti-gravity essay contest attracted 88 papers, which Babson read with delight ("It was just like opening Christmas presents"). On the advice of Boston's business panjandrum Charles Francis Adams ("Get a professor to look them over. That will take the smell off it"), he had the papers checked by Physics Professor Howard O. Stearns of Simmons College...
...protruding, so that it looked like the single eye of an octopus." A short (5 ft. 3), slight man with a scraggly mustache, he made some people think of "a distorted brownie." The nostrils of his long aquiline nose quivered constantly, picking up odors that most people could not smell at all. Odors were his great passion. During his New Orleans period, he translated every article he could find in French periodicals on odors, wrote innumerable essays of his own. In one of them he claimed he could distinguish between octoroons, quadroons and pure-blooded Africans by his sense...
...impulse, Silvestro buys a ticket to his mother's village in Sicily. When he gets there, his mother is roasting a fish and the smell releases a lot of memories: how his mother's face had once been "young and awe-inspiring"; how, in poverty, they had dined on snails and endives, and relished them; how Silvestro's grandfather, a good Socialist, had also been a good enough Catholic to ride in the St. Joseph's Day parade. When his mother takes Silvestro on her rounds as a practical nurse, Silvestro begins to learn his lesson...