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Word: tore (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...sang a handful of French torch songs, she tore at her blue-black hair, embraced an imaginary lover, went through the motions of strangling herself in one ballad, dropped to the floor in another (after supposedly swallowing poison). The crowd in Manhattan's Cafe Society Uptown loved every minute of it. Her one song in English, Hands across the Table, still carried a Paris label; despite three engagements in the U.S. before the war, she had been careful not to learn English too well...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Music: Socko Switcheroo | 2/24/1947 | See Source »

...wicket keeper (catcher), whose gloves resemble a hockey player's gloves, with less padding. Batsmen wear leg pads something like a hockey goalie's, and thumb and finger guards. When cricket immortals like the late, great, bearded William Gilbert ("W.G.") Grace smote the ball, it practically tore a fielder's hand...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Sport: Not Like Croquet | 2/17/1947 | See Source »

...Whitehorse Valley of the Yukon. Nothing moved. If a man spat out of his doorway, the spittle exploded in mid-air with a sharp crack. It was 82.6° below zero; the lowest temperature ever recorded in North America. Aloft in the noonday gloom the wild, arctic winds tore mile-long snow streamers from the peaks and made a great yelling that the valley could not hear...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: THE WEATHER: Great Yelling | 2/10/1947 | See Source »

That, as some Englishmen would say, tore it. For, as a result of that brief encounter, the bigwigs of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer are now immodestly slapping their own backs with the fervor of flagellant monks. They have acquired, little Miss Kerr, and they suspect that she might be the biggest thing that has happened to M-G-M since Greer Garson...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Cinema: A Star Is Born | 2/10/1947 | See Source »

...Clock-were lit at night, white and black, by the polished moon of Castile and by gas jets, weak flames shaped like slices of melon. In summer he saw the savage boredom of village life in Brunete on the baked plain, where young men crucified bats whose wings tore as easily as old rags. He saw a starved boy in the ragged tinsel of a matador waiting, with the face of a mystic, for a bull's charge in a drunkenly howling village square...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Spain Remembered | 12/30/1946 | See Source »

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