William Faulkner, The Town:

That’s what he had. That’s what happened to him. Because by that time he had probably resigned himself to no more than the vain and hopeless dream of vengeance and revenge on his enemy. I mean, to canvass and canvass, cast and recast, only to come always back to that one-gallused one-bale residuum which, if all their resources, including the price of the second hand overalls too, could have been pooled, the result would not have shaken the economy of a country church, let alone a county-seat bank.


Elastic straps that hold trousers up.

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