Word: torning
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...times we seem to ignore them, if we are torn by doubts or current fears, or our attention is diverted by unworthy scenes, even in our national capital . . ." At this pointed allusion the President was interrupted by a great burst of sustained applause, and it was a full 30 seconds before he could resume: "we still know that we are America. The heart of America is sound...
...French Red Cross helicopter clattered out of a slate-grey sky, and put down at Dienbienphu. Two khaki-clad officers and an angular French civilian stepped gingerly down to the muddy, shell-torn airstrip, and a Communist liaison officer came forward to greet them. "You are one hour ahead of schedule, messieurs," said the Communist. "You should know that our Democratic Republic's time is one hour behind your own. Now, if you will please follow me." The French had come back to Dienbienphu to settle terms for evacuating their 1,500 wounded, as vouchsafed by the Communists...
...Communists were not forgotten-stones were thrown through the windows of some Red offices in Paris, firebombs were tossed into a Communist newspaper plant in Nice, and some Soviet flags were torn down from a group of allied flags near Lille. "The real conquerors are the friends of Thorez and Duclos," reminded Le Figaro. "It is they who, on the ruins and on the tomb, ought to raise the Red banner at the head of the dead...
...voice when the accounts are out of line. Mother Griffin has a large, solid body, but her brain is the stuff pillows are made of. Her life is one long strategic retreat. Two Griffin children dominate the story. Dick, the novel's narrator, is an unself-confident 16, torn between the slavish loyalty demanded by his father and the slavish devotion he feels for his older sister, Brace. At the camera distance of one generation, 19-year-old Brace is the sister of Hemingway's Lady Brett Ashley-a victim of the new conformism, revolt for revolt...
Behind his angry lordship, officers and troopers of the Light Brigade were being torn to shreds. "Death was coming fast, and the Light Brigade was meeting death in perfect order; as a man or horse dropped, the riders on each side . . . opened out; as soon as they had ridden clear, the ranks closed again." Words of command "rang out as on the parade ground: 'Close in to your center. Back the right flank! Keep up. Private Smith. Left squadron, keep back. Look to your dressing.' Until at last, as the ranks grew thinner and thinner, only one command...