Word: stare
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...Minnesota, perked an ear to the air, broke off his conversation with New York City's Mayor Robert Wagner, and hustled over to the band. "Thanks, boys," cried Freeman. "I haven't heard that in quite a while." Bandleader John Celebre, still brandishing his baton, turned to stare as Freeman left...
...Chinese mountain troops will prowl the lofty boundary, seeking new undefended peaks or valleys on which to plant the flag of Peking. Near by, Gurkhas and turbaned Sikhs will try to head them off. But since it is essentially a struggle of nerves, each side is more likely to stare than to shoot...
...crimson tent was set up in the muddy Maragheh plain in honor of the royal presence. Baggy-pants peasants and their red-cheeked women and children crowded close to stare at Mohammed Reza Pahlevi, Shah of Iran, resplendent in the green uniform of army commander in chief. Suddenly, the Shah asked for the microphone, delivered an impromptu talk to the crowd. "I've been in this land reform business for over ten years," he said. "It's now reached its decisive stage. Believe me, it is no honor to be King of a poor and hungry people...
...Eyes stare out of the darkness, so green and narrow they could have been admired by a lecherous khan. They move closer. A young black cat, just full grown, steps out of a bit of sewer pipe and starts to move through the city. Its gait is all leg and female, stealthy, preying. It walks across curbs and over the cracks in sidewalks. It hunts and bristles and pads along, looking. The eyes again. Another cat. Snarl. Fangs. Battle. A fierce toss of bodies, fearsome screeches, victory. The black cat moves on. All the while, words are appearing above, below...
...paintings, even when there is a touch of grim humor, the mood of despair persists. The composition of his landscapes is brilliant; but the landscape is so clogged with color that it becomes airless, a kind of prison. In the figure paintings, his creatures are chalky, emaciated scarecrows that stare out from cruel masklike faces. They accuse, torture, mock; they crouch on each others shoulders, ride each other's naked backs. To a large extent, the theme of Jan Müller's work is humanity devouring itself...