True sorrow is as rare as true love.
The world had teeth and it could bite you with them anytime it wanted.
We all float down here!
How life did imitate art sometimes. And the cruder the art, the closer the imitation.
She nods. You're good for the ones you love. You want to be good for the ones you love, because you know that your time with them will end up being too short, no matter how long it is.
Anyway, as the old barrelhouse song says, My God, how the money rolled in. Norton must have subscribed to the old Puritan notion that the best way to figure out which folks God favours is by checking their bank acounts.