His formal statements are filled with multisyllabic upper-crust phrasing -- his campaign had an intern whose main responsibility was to look up all the unfamiliar words Mr. Kerry uttered -- but one on one, he calls strangers "man" or "brother".
Then she said, "They picked up complete strangers, men whom they did not love, men not related to them, men who could not offer them any kind of financial support because they were homeless and destitute, and made them worth millions if dead".
Though there are only inches between them, for an instant his father is a stranger, a man who has kept a secret, has survived a tragedy, a man whose past he does not fully know.
When Mr. Thorps returned, they stared at a stranger, a man they thought they knew so well.
But a stranger?" A man in his fifties, wearing a chocolate-colored chef's apron, walked outside and introduced himself as Chef Jay, the proprietor of Brooklyn Stoops.
Her first had been on a chilly night three years earlier, and she had followed the Grub directive to speak with a stranger — a man who gave her a jacket to wear home.
The statements the Stranger considers, "Man learns," "Theaetetus is sitting," and "Theaetetus is flying," are all positive predications, the first two true, the third false.
