“As things now looked, I would probably cash in my chips in battle and dissolve into soil and air in some place no one in the States had ever heard of. But what the hell! … After all, a man’s life is essentially but a trifling thing, really important to almost no one but himself. I reflected that a man who is really a man has to slug it out to a finish even though he senses that in the end there won’t be enough of him to make a soupbone.” — Ross S. Carter (“Those Devils In Baggy Pants”) (1951)
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