“Then there was Micah Jenkins, the Captain of Troop K, a gentle and courteous South Carolinian, on whom danger acted like wine. In action he was a perfect gamecock.”

“Micah showed up shortly thereafter and was happy to meet our other “brother.” He shook Adrian’s hand and smiled. “Now I see some family resemblance. I was starting to wonder if Jill was adopted, but you two kind of look like each other.”“So does our mailman back in North Dakota,” said Adrian.“South,” I corrected. Fortunately, Micah didn’t seem to think there was anything weird about the slip.“Right,” said Adrian. He studied Micah thoughtfully. “There’s something familiar about you. Have we met?”Micah shook his head. “I’ve never been to South Dakota.”I was pretty sure I heard Adrian murmur, “That makes two of us.”

“The man of thought who will not act is ineffective; the man of action who will not think is dangerous.”

“What wine goes with Captain Crunch?”

“Like many young men in the South, he had trouble ruling out the possible. They are not like an immigrant's son in Passaic who desires to become a dentist and that is that. Southerners have trouble ruling out the possible. What happens to a... man to whom all things seem possible and every course of action open? Nothing of course.”

“A revolution is not a dinner party, or writing an essay, or painting a picture, or doing embroidery; it cannot be so refined, so leisurely and gentle, so temperate, kind, courteous, restrained and magnanimous. A revolution is an insurrection, an act of violence by which one class overthrows another.”