“The old man's head was clear and good now and he was full of resolution but he had little hope. It was too good to last, he thought. He took one look at the great fish as he watched the shark close in.”

“Then he began to pity the great fish that he had hooked. He is wonderful and strange and who knows how old he is, he thought. Never have I had such a strong fish nor one who acted so strangely. Perhaps he is too wise to jump. He could ruin me by jumping or by a wild rush. But perhaps he has been hooked many times before and he knows that this is how he should make his fight. He cannot know it is only one man against him, nor that it is an old man. But what a great fish he is and what will he bring in the market if the flesh is good. He took the bait like a male and he pulls like a male and his fight has no panic in it. I wonder if he has plans or if he is just as desperate as I am?”

“So he was good-looking and he had a great set of thighs. Chickens had nice thighs, too.”

“And the last thought he had that morning as he closed his eyes was: I hope the tornado hit the moose.”

“He thought and suffered a good deal but he lacked the resolution to dare--the first requisite of a practitioner.”

“Sam studied his brother. At one time he thought Frankie had a good head on his shoulders. Sure, he had a temper. And he was conceited. But he always used common sense. But now he wasn’t so sure if that were true. He had brought him his lifeless fiancé. Like a dog dragging in a dead rabbit looking for praise.”