"He had gone to sleep standing up, leaning on his musket." Chap. 1, p. 4

"Ordinarily, Bushrod tried not to think too much in the time before a battle. Long ago he had learned to close his mind to speculation, fixing his eyes on the crossed straps or blanket roll of the man to his front or, if he was in the front rank (as he was now), the ground at his feet." Chap. 1, p. 7

"He had never been wounded, never been very sick, never been kicked by any of the multitude of horses that always surrounded them (though he'd been stepped on twice), never broken a limb nor fallen from a wagon nor gotten hold of any whiskey he would call bad. All this singular good fortune he credited to the Saint Michael medal that dangled from his watch chain, a parting gift from Mr. Denby Garrison, rector of...