His big hand went all the way around it.

All the piles of lumber were carried away.

“He buys all the ones he wants,” Bill said.

George is a kike just like all the rest of them.

All the shutters of the hospital were nailed shut.

All the old women in the camp had been helping her.

That’s where his old man is after him all the time.

All the time now Liz was thinking about Jim Gilmore.

Manuel saw no one he knew in all the people he passed.

“Here’s all the ones we missed A. J.,” said Jim and downed his liquor.

All the time Jim was gone on the deer hunting trip Liz thought about him.

There were labels on them from all the hotels where they had spent nights.

She was intent on the rod all the time they trolled, even when she talked.

Just like when the three-day blows come now and rip all the leaves off the trees.

He did not understand English but he had sweat all the time the row was going on.

All the girls, the old woman, and the clean-cut young man sat down at table together.

My father spread all the blackened, chipped stone implements on the paper and then wrapped them up.

The vineyards were thin and bare-branched too and all the country wet and brown and dead with the autumn.

All the papers in Andalucia devoted special supplements to his death, which had been expected for some days.

The Indian who was rowing them was working very hard, but the other boat moved further ahead in the mist all the time.

He carefully picked up all the apricots off the floor, some of them had gone under the stove, and put them back in the pan.

It would have to stay edge up all the time because if it went over flat you could roll right over it and it wouldn’t make any trouble.

All the men had beards and there were three deer in the back of the wagon, their thin legs sticking stiff over the edge of the wagon box.

I had a new thing to think about and I lay in the dark with my eyes open and thought of all the girls I had ever known and what kind of wives they would make.

But some nights I could not fish, and on those nights I was cold-awake and said my prayers over and over and tried to pray for all the people I had ever known.

Imagine having them around the house all the time and going to Sunday dinners at their house, and having them over to dinner and her telling Marge all the time what to do and how to act.

When I had finished too quickly and the time did not go, I would fish the stream over again, starting where it emptied into the lake and fishing back up stream, trying for all the trout I had missed coming down.

The schooner moved out of the bay toward the open lake carrying the two great saws, the traveling carriage that hurled the logs against the revolving, circular saws and all the rollers, wheels, belts and iron piled on a hull-deep load of lumber.

I would think of a trout stream I had fished along when I was a boy and fish its whole length very carefully in my mind; fishing very carefully under all the logs, all the turns of the bank, the deep holes and the clear shallow stretches, sometimes catching trout and sometimes losing them.

So on some nights I would try to remember all the animals in the world by name and then the birds and then fishes and then countries and cities and then kinds of food and the names of all the streets I could remember in Chicago, and when I could not remember anything at all any more I would just listen.

Finally, though, I went back to trout-fishing, because I found that I could remember all the streams and there was always something new about them, while the girls, after I had thought about them a few times, blurred and I could not call them into my mind and finally they all blurred and all became rather the same and I gave up thinking about them almost altogether.

There were many cars standing on tracks⁠—brown wooden restaurant-cars and brown wooden sleeping-cars that would go to Italy at five o’clock that night, if that train still left at five; the cars were marked Paris-Rome, and cars, with seats on the roofs, that went back and forth to the suburbs with, at certain hours, people in all the seats and on the roofs, if that were the way it were still done, and passing were the white walls and many windows of houses.

I was never ashamed of the ribbons, though, and sometimes, after the cocktail hour, I would imagine myself having done all the things they had done to get their medals; but walking home at night through the empty streets with the cold wind and all the shops closed, trying to keep near the street lights, I knew that I would never have done such things, and I was very much afraid to die, and often lay in bed at night by myself, afraid to die and wondering how I would be when I went back to the front again.

That took up a great amount of time, for if you try to remember all the people you have ever known, going back to the earliest thing you remember⁠—which was, with me, the attic of the house where I was born and my mother and father’s wedding-cake in a tin box hanging from one of the rafters, and, in the attic, jars of snakes and other specimens that my father had collected as a boy and preserved in alcohol, the alcohol sunken in the jars so the backs of some of the snakes and specimens were exposed and had turned white⁠—if you thought back that far, you remembered a great many people.