Bernie Sanders wanted to sit in the sun, but not even the sharp California rays on the rooftop deck at a San Diego hotel could brighten his mood. There was still too much at stake, he said, too many lies being told, too many foes with bad motives inside his adopted party. The irascible impatience that has defined Sanders’ entire life–the fury of David against Goliath, of the worker against the owner–was peaking. And still people were telling him to hang it up, get in line and go back to the dairy pastures of Vermont…
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Write to Philip Elliott at philip.elliott@time.com