A good story is like a bitter pill, with the sugar coating inside of it.
Except in streetcars one should never be unnecessarily rude to a lady.
She had become so thoroughly annealed into his life that she was like the air he breathed--necessary but scarcely noticed.
Of habit, the power that keeps the earth from flying to pieces; though there is some silly theory of gravitation.
It couldn't have happened anywhere but in little old New York.
I'll give you the whole secret to short story writing. Here it is. Rule 1: Write stories that please yourself. There is no Rule 2.