A man can go along obeying all the rules and then it don't matter a damn anymore.

You're a beautiful drunk, daughter. But you're a drunk.

Then I said something. I said, Suppose, just suppose, nothing had ever happened. Suppose this was for the first time. Just suppose. It doesn't hurt to suppose. Say none of the other had ever happened. You know what I mean? Then what? I said.

But he stays by the window, remembering that life. They had laughed. They had leaned on each other and laughed until the tears had come, while everything else—the cold and where he'd go in it—was outside, for a while anyway.

You've got to work with your mistakes until they look intended. Understand?

I think a little menace is fine to have in a story. For one thing, it's good for the circulation.

He wondered if she wondered if he were watching her.