Take me or leave me; or, as is the usual order of things, both.

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, a medley of extemporanea, And love is a thing that can never go wrong, and I am Marie of Romania.

Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.

What writes worse than a Theodore Dreiser? ... Two Theodore Dreisers.

Yet, as only New Yorkers know, if you can get through the twilight, you'll live through the night.

Constant use had not worn ragged the fabric of their friendship.

The first thing I do in the morning is brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue.