Tilting his head back he slowly released an enormous quantity of smoke from his mouth and drew it up through his nostrils. He continued to smoke in this "French-inhale" style. Very probably, it was not part of the sofa vaudeville of a showoff but, rather, the private, exposed achievement of a young man who, at one time or another, might have tried shaving himself left-handed.

Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first one who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior.

Listen, if you're not going to be a nun or something, you might as well laugh.

Give me an honest con man any day.

Then again you may pick up just enough education to hate people who say, 'It's a secret between he and I.'

If Death stepped miraculously through the glass and came in after you, in all probability you just got up and went along with him, ferociously but quietly.

I mean they don't seem able to love us just the way we are. They don't seem able to love us unless they can keep changing us a little bit. They love their reasons for loving us almost as much as they love us, and most of the time more.