Money will not buy happiness, but it will let you be unhappy in nice places.
After two days in the hospital, I turn to the nurse.
The low-ceiling price bazaar for sexual relief was a street called Middie Alley. You could barely get a pushcart through this avenue. Top price-twenty-five cents.
I never drank anything stronger than beer before I was twelve.
I would rather be living in Philadelphia.
The cost of living has gone up another dollar a quart.