He gestured toward the empty chair and the other officers began passing him their kegged beef and ship's biscuit.

Slowly his huge and inarticulate fist traveled to his eye, and stayed there baby-wise. / The young men of today do not cry. They turn Syndicalist instead; dimly conscious in the darkness of the wall that stands between them and the largesse of life that they feel to be their right, and flinging against that wall in an impotent fury of words and blows.

emulatory officiousness

They have opened up crypts and basements as immense pads where vagrant and impoverished hippies can flop for the night.