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Evolution. It’s the reason why we’re here. It’s why we stand on two legs, why most of us get our wisdom teeth taken out, why we have five fingers to clasp our morning coffee.
If you are not struck by love upon your first step on the Green, first Collis smoothie or first run around Pine Park — no fear.
The last word. When everything is said and done, what is left? You spent four years here. Twelve terms.
Time flies when you’re having fun. Or in our case, time flies when your term is packed back-to-back with midterms, meetings, lunch dates and midnight cram sessions.
Carolyn: I was disappointed to find out that I was randomly assigned to live in the River — notoriously known as one of the worst dorms because of its distant location from the center of campus.
This week, the Mirror explores the beautiful and beastly parts of campus, of Dartmouth and ourselves.
This week is an ode to the alphabet, to words. The alphabet is one of the first things we learn as children, symbols permanantly etched into our minds as we carefully traced the letters on colorful construction paper.
If a Cornell or University of Pennsylvania student were to stand in the middle of the Green on a sunny day, they might overhear comments containing foreign phrases such as “My English class is such a layup” or “He never responded to my flitz....” The visitor might scratch their head, shrug their shoulders and say, “It’s all Greek to me.” At Dartmouth, we have our very own language, reflecting our unique culture cultivated in the hills of New Hampshire.
How often do you get lost in thought? Have you ever been daydreaming, your mind miles away from the task at hand, a distant look in your eyes?
Renaissance translates to “rebirth” in French. The term “renaissance” evokes images of art, science and humanism, of the printing press and the Sistine Chapel.
It’s the last Mirror issue of the term, and we decided to do something different. Something unconventional.
Dartmouth is a college with a long history and strong traditions, known for building even longer and stronger bonds between the ones that call it home.
February 14th, more famously known as “Singles Awareness Day.” Two days ago, you were probably frantically searching online for overnight flower delivery or wandering the aisles of CVS for chocolate fancier than Kit Kat bars.
It’s February, and there’s a chill in the air. A chill that only blows every four years. February will be a month of competition, a month of rivalry and of victories.
Dartmouth is a liberal arts college. Most of us are working towards a bachelor of arts degree. We are working towards one day being able to frame our diploma written in a language dead for almost a thousand years (don’t you read Latin?) and hang it up on our wall in the prestigious office we will obviously all occupy.
The 21st century. THE modern era. A time when most things are a click away, a time when waiting more than five minutes for any piece of information is too long, a time when self-promotion is embedded into our online presence.
Migration. During the winter geese take refuge from the harsh winter winds.
Divisions. How are we divided? Everyday we are faced with a series of choices, placing ourselves into a series of categories.
Welcome back to campus. We all return weary from all the reunions that occurred over break: reunions with our high school friends (or avoiding reunions with our former classmates), reunions with family members and reunions with our home selves — less or more wild versions of the person we are at Dartmouth.
In keeping with the issue's theme of Origins, Cappy explores the rise of the novel.
