They crawled through the north fence and came on toward him, and now he saw that both were young, not more than nineteen or twenty.

They were dirty, their clothes were torn, and the girl was so exhausted that she fell when she was still twenty feet from the front door.

They were running from something.

They were a pair of lost, whipped kids, Morgan thought as he went to bed.

They passed ranches that were framed dark gray against the black hills.

They were tethered, army style, on stable lines.

They bawled questions that were not answered in the uproar.

They were about a mile off ; ;

They weren't sleeping, of course, but they thought they were doing him a favor by pretending.

They expected greater things from him, regardless of how trying the circumstances, and they were disappointed.

They were going to town, and they were both excited.

They were free.

They were in a fight, outweighed in both numbers and money.

They were sitting on their heels, rider-fashion, over by the still empty calf wagon.

They were considering it gravely, neither seeming to like what he planned.

They were silent for a little while, each looking glum.

They were all good men.

They were headed straight for each other on a collision course.

`` They were supposed to meet Thor at nine PM for a conference concerning the ad campaign for their soap, a new angle based on this SX-21 stuff ''.

They were married over the week-end, though he was easily sixty and she could not have been even thirty.

They were west of the Sabine, but only God knew where.

They were engulfed by the weird silence, broken only by the low, angry murmur of the river.

They were already swollen to bursting.

They found that the transmembrane ( TM ) helices 1 and 6 contained unwound segments in the middle of the membrane.

They got tin cups of coffee from the big pot on the coosie's fire, rolled and lighted brown-paper cigarettes, lounged about.

They closed in fast, kept him from reaching inside his coat for his gun.

They escorted him down from the porch and through the rain to his office.

They moved in on him, crowded him from all sides.

They would have to go west through the narrow river valley that separated Leyte from Samar and hope that it didn't close in before they returned.

They had never seen a tultul but they had heard about it from their fathers ''.

They had fought from caves, and the marines resorted to burning them out.

They bought rustled cattle from the outlaw, kept him supplied with guns and ammunition, harbored his men in their houses.

They whirled and saw him, standing there dim in the slatted light from the boarded freight wall.

They lay, with the birds hopping from branch to branch above them and the bright sky peeping down at them.

They squatted on their heels with their heads bent far forward, their eyes only a few inches from the ground.

`` They swear that every person smells different and every family smells different from every other.

They fought hard, but they were forgiving to former foes, and sought to prevent vindictive legislatures from confiscating Tory property in violation of the Treaty of 1783.

They may even enroll a colored student or two for show, though he usually turns out to be from Thailand, or any place other than the American South.

While convalescing in his Virginia home he wrote a book recording his prison experiences and escape, entitled: They Shall Not Have Me Published originally in ( Helion's ) English by Dutton & Co. of New York, in 1943, the book was received by the press as a work of astonishing literary power and one of the most realistic accounts of World War 2, from the French side.

They reincarnated the figures of human beings banished from his canvases since the 1920's.

They emerged as interchangeable cogs in a faulty but formidable machine: shaved nearly naked, hair queued, greatcoated, jackbooted, and best of all -- in the opinion of the British professional, Major Semple-Lisle -- `` their minds are not estranged from the paths of obedience by those smatterings of knowledge which only serve to lead to insubordination and mutiny ''.

They even accept the `` double standard '' of sex morality in a double sense, i.e., both sexes agree that standards for men differ from standards for women, and women apply to both sexes a standard different from that held by men.

`` They straggle at such a rate '', he told the commander-in-chief, `` that if the enemy were enterprising, they might get two from us, when we would take one of them, which makes me wish General Howe would go on, lest any incident happen to us ''.

They had risen from humble beginnings by their own diligence and astuteness, they were unfettered by the codes that bound nobles like Othon or even the older generation of clerks like Hotham, and they were working for an end that their opponents had never even visualized.

They had other topics of conversation, besides their news from courts and fairs, which were of interest to Othon, the builder of castles in Wales and churches in his native country.