He shouted at the top of his voice, "This is a battle we cannot lose."

He had been a practitioner of Aikido for seven years.

He had a shutout until the ninth inning.

He caught the nine o'clock shuttle to New York.

He was waylaid by a band of guerrillas.

He walked on appearing to disregard the prostitute.

He may well just say something ambiguous again.

He threw up just as much as he had drunk.

He swept his brush across the canvas.

He shouldered the swing door open.