There's Something About Taking A Plow And

But If The Strength Ain't Real, I Recall Thinking The Very Last Thing That Day, Before I Finally Passed Out, Then The Weakness Sure Enough Is. Weakness Is True And Real. I Used To Accuse The Kid Of Faking His Weakness. But Faking Proves The Weakness Is Real. Or You Wouldn't Be So Weak As To Fake It. No, You Can't Ever Fake Being Weak. You Can Only Fake Being Strong. . .

I Had To Keep On Acting Deaf If I Wanted To Hear At All.

He Was In His Chair In The Corner, Resting A Second Before He Came Out For The Next Round -- In A Long Line Of Next Rounds. The Thing He Was Fighting, You Couldn't Whip It For Good. All You Could Do Was Keep On Whipping It, Till You Couldn't Come Out Anymore And Somebody Else Had To Take Your Place.

The Best Of All Possible Cages.' Ben Stepped Back To Regard The Job With A Sad Smile. 'what More Can One Ask?

We'd Just Shared The Last Beer And Slung The Empty Can Out The Window At A Stop Sign And Were Just Waiting Back To Get The Feel Of The Day, Swimming In That Kind Of Tasty Drowsiness That Comes Over You After A Day Of Going Hard At Something You Enjoy Doing -- Half Sunburned And Half Drunk And Keeping Awake Only Because You Wanted To Savor The Taste As Long As You Could.