conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is a description for a book titled Watergate about Watergate, Haldeman, Nixon's with the genre: Politics & Social Sciences, Politics & Government?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Now with a new afterword by the author, here is the definitive history of the Watergate scandal - based on the most recently released tapes, in-depth interviews with many of the participants, and hundreds of official and unofficial documents, including notes Haldeman omitted from his own published diaries. the author's comprehensive coverage and penetrating insights clear up many uncertainties that may still remain about the scandal and the extent of Nixon's involvement. Authoritative and compelling, Watergate is essential reading for anyone who wants to understand fully this traumatizing episode in America's history that challenged the integrity of its political system.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Watergate
  LaRue didn't want to comment on a sexual remark, even if the lady had brought it up herself. He replied in a whisper: "You know, Mitchell says that Colson's constituency consists of the president's worst instincts."
  Back at her desk she found a stamped, sealed envelope with a cobweb of black handwriting and a return address that she recognized. Alice Longworth was one of the few people—Mamie was another—whose letters didn't have to go through "the system," so long as there was somebody in the mailroom sharp-eyed enough to spot them. Haldeman wasn't interested in Mrs. L, but the letter's evasion of his maw still pleased Rose, as if it were a secret message flung over the battlements without the castle's ogre having noticed.
  All of Rose's current worries seemed to be of this second-level, can't-win-for-losing kind. Among them was the fear that next month's victory would be diluted by everyone's saying it reflected only McGovern's incompetence and represented no tribute to Richard Nixon.
  She wouldn't think about that now. Don Carnevale, in town from New York, was taking her to lunch today, and her overnight bag, packed and standing in the corner, was ready for an unusual midweek trip to Camp David. She would love to be taking a beau up with her—separate cabins, of course—though she doubted the wisdom of pushing her luck, or testing Don's ardor, beyond lunch or dinner.
  Nixon's leg was bothering him. He'd been on and off planes and in and out of limousines the whole day—a long one of campaigning—and it wasn't over yet. As the helicopter landed on the South Lawn, he could see that the lights in the West Wing had been left on, as he'd instructed. While Pat headed upstairs to the residence, he made his way to Woodrow Wilson's old desk in the Oval Office.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Considered against everything else, Larrie's caper seemed fraught with unnecessary peril. Her hope was to wangle a prison visit with Hunt, and to explore—delicately, she promised—whether the MOOT envelope might have gotten scooped up during the first burglary of the DNC. She had reminded LaRue that, if it had, there was probably no way Hunt could connect him to it: an initial letter from their Canadian contact—she distinctly remembered its arrival, along with Ike LaRue's bird gun—had promised that the investigators would communicate about the "incident" without mentioning any names or any identifiable circumstances.
  So that's where they were due, at the "MCDC," at one o'clock. LaRue wished they were already on the road, and his nervousness only increased when the phone rang. But as soon as he recognized the caller to be John Mitchell, gloom replaced his jitters.
  While Clarine continued to read and smoke out on the balcony, Mitchell informed LaRue that he had finally left 1030 Fifth Avenue, and Martha, after she'd smashed a mirror in the apartment and brushed Ajax onto his oil portrait. If her drinking got any worse, he could expect to have his actual face assaulted.
  LaRue hung up thinking yet again that he himself might have kept from ever happening—if down in Key Biscayne a year and a half ago he'd just raised his voice of protest a couple of decibels and said they would be nuts to give Gordon Liddy one thin dime.
  Clarine stayed calm as could be all the way to the Detention Center. LaRue sensed folly in what they were doing, but he was soothed by the spell of her confidence. There was also this to consider: Risky as her retrieval operation might be, was it any worse than allowing that old investigative report to float free in the world? And, aside from all else: however peculiar Clarine's scheme, participation in it kept him from the kind of brooding he had done back home in Jackson.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Thanks, too, to Ed Cohen, Altie Karper, and Jill Verrillo for all their skillful editorial and production help.
  For various kinds of encouragement and assistance I would like to thank: Michael Kaiser, president of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts; Patricia Kenworthy; Dr. Joseph Abraham Levi; Priscilla McMillan; Charles Francis; Tom Duesterberg; Robert Nedelkoff; Michael Bishop.
  I owe thanks to John McConnell, who served in two presidential administrations, for a host of shrewd suggestions and free lunches in the White House Mess.
  While writing this novel, my mind has often traveled back to conversations I had about Richard Nixon with my pal Kevin Morley when we were college freshmen during the tumultuous spring of 1970. I'm grateful for his friendship during that time and in all the years since.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about Nixon, Washington, Robert, during.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Thanks, too, to Ed Cohen, Altie Karper, and Jill Verrillo for all their skillful editorial and production help. 
  For various kinds of encouragement and assistance I would like to thank: Michael Kaiser, president of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts; Patricia Kenworthy; Dr. Joseph Abraham Levi; Priscilla McMillan; Charles Francis; Tom Duesterberg; Robert Nedelkoff; Michael Bishop. 
  For reminiscences of life within the Nixon administration and around Washington during the early 1970s, I am grateful to Robert Gray, Michael Balzano, and my dear friend Rene Carpenter. 
  I owe thanks to John McConnell, who served in two presidential administrations, for a host of shrewd suggestions and free lunches in the White House Mess. 
  While writing this novel, my mind has often traveled back to conversations I had about Richard Nixon with my pal Kevin Morley when we were college freshmen during the tumultuous spring of 1970. I'm grateful for his friendship during that time and in all the years since.