1973 album featuring the song "Photograph"

Usage examples of ringo.

After Redmond shoots Colonel Sartoris, who purposely went unarmed in repudiation of violence, when Drusilla, Ringo, and the people of the town expect Bayard to perpetuate the code of revenge, he grows up completely: facing Redmond he breaks the chain of violence.

To Ringo and me it lived, if only because of the fact that the sunimpacted ground drank water faster than we could fetch it from the well, the very setting of the stage for conflict a prolonged and wellnigh hopeless ordeal in which we ran, panting and interminable, with the leaking bucket between wellhouse and battlefield, the two of us needing first to join forces and spend ourselves against a common enemy, time, before we could engender between us and hold intact the pattern of re-capitulant mimic furious victory like a cloth, a shield between ourselves and reality, between us and fact and doom.

Loosh stooped before Ringo or I could have moved, and with his hand he swept the chips flat.

So I stooped and caught both hands full of dust and rose: and Ringo still standing there, not moving, just looking at me even as I flung the dust.

Then he looked at me, who was still looking at him, as Ringo at the foot of the steps beneath still was.

The sun had gone out of the bottom when we finished the fence, that is, left Joby and Loosh with the last three panels to put up, but it was still shining up the slope of the pasture when we rode across it, I behind Father on one of the mules and Ringo on the other one.

Father at the house and returned to the stable, where Ringo already had a lead rope on the cow.

She seemed to be moving slower than the cow even while the cow was stopped with Ringo leaned to the taut jerk of the rope and hollering at the cow, so it was dark sure enough when we reached the new pen.

Father had already eaten once early in the afternoon, and besides that was what Ringo and I were waiting for: for after supper, the hour of laxed muscles and full entrails, the talking.

So Ringo and I squatted again and waited quietly while Granny sewed beside the lamp on the table and Father sat in his old chair in its old place, his muddy boots crossed and lifted into the old heel-marks beside the cold and empty fireplace, chewing the tobacco which Joby had loaned him.

He said coconut cake every time because we never had been able to decide whether Ringo had ever tasted coconut cake or not.

And Ringo was afraid to come up in the bed with me, so I got down on the pallet with him.

It was cool and shady there, and quiet, and Ringo slept most of the tune, and I slept some too.

I could hear Ringo moaning behind me, and farther back still the shouts and the hoofs.

I could still hear it, my ears were still ringing, so that Granny and Ringo and I all seemed to be talking far away.