Through the battered century of world wars and massive violence by other means, there had always been an undervoice that spoke through the cannon fire and ack-ack and that sometimes grew strong enough to merge with the battle sounds. It was the struggle between the state and secret groups of insurgents, state-born, wild-eyed—the anarchists, terrorists, assassins and revolutionaries who tried to bring about apocalyptic change.

It is as if there were enshrined in these legends a racial memory of the Australopithicines who came close but never did make it to full humanity.

Coach Smith had to romp on 'em to get 'em out of a losing streak.

Twice it rained in the night, but it was a gentle rain, whimpering featherily on the skin coverings of the conical lodges.