Her eyes always had a frantic, lost look. He could never cure her eyes of that.

this time has finished me.

but isn't there always one good thing to look back on? think of how many cups of coffee we drank together.

The park grass looked greener, the park benches looked better and the flowers were trying harder.

as the spirit wanes the form appears

When I get down to my last dime I'll just walk over to skid row." "There are some real weirdos down there." "They're everywhere.

and our few good times will be rare because we have the critical sense and are not easy to fool with laughter