“[He]Spoke and rose to full height, sword in air,Then cleft the man's brow square between the templesCutting his head in two -- a dreadful gashBetween the cheeks all beardless. Earth resoundedQuivering at the great shock of his weightAs he went tumbling down in all his armor,Drenched with blood and brains; in equal halvesHis head hung this and that way from his shoulders.”

“He had no choice. None at all. His kind rarely did.His shoulders slumped in resignation. He hung his head. His will, his pride, gone.”

“There was movement along the fringe of Chauncey's vision, and he snapped his head to the left. At first glance what appeared to be a large angel topping a nearby monument rose to full height. Neither stone nor marble, the boy had arms and legs. His torso was naked, his feet were bare, and peasant trousers hung low on his waist. He hopped down from the monument, the ends of his hair dripping rain. It slid down his face, which was dark as a Spaniard's.”

“Politics was his passion, but he wasn't suited for the rough-and-tumble of the game. He felt things too deeply. There was no wall between his head and his heart.”

“He saw on the paper a picture of a man, white-skinned, who hung upon a crosspiece of wood. The man was without clothes except for a bit about his loins, and to all appearences he was dead, since his head drooped upon his shoulder and his eyes were closed above his bearded lips. Wang Lung looked at the pictured man in horror and with increasing interest.”

“For man was created of the dust of the earth, but woman was made of a part of man, after that he was a living soul: yet was she not produced from Adam's foot, to be his too low inferior; nor from his head to be his superior, but from his side, near his heart, to be his equal; that where he is Lord, she may be Lady. ”