Some days I feel like playing it smooth. Some days I feel like playing it like a waffle iron.
Shake your business up and pour it. I haven't got all day.
One would think a writer would be happy here — if a writer is ever happy anywhere.
The streets were dark with something more then night.
I regard psychiatry as fifty percent bunk, thirty percent fraud, ten percent parrot talk, and the remaining ten percent just a fancy lingo for the common sense we have had for hundreds and perhaps thousands of years, if we ever had the guts to read.
When I split an infinitive, God damn it, I split it so it stays split.