Tall, aren’t you?” she said. “I didn’t mean to be.”Her eyes rounded. She was puzzled. She was thinking. I could see, even on that short acquaintance, that thinking was always going to be a bother...

Throw up into your typewriter every morning. Clean up every noon.

I don’t mind if you don’t like my manners. They’re pretty bad. I grieve over them during the long winter evenings.

You’re broke, eh?”I been shaking two nickels together for a month, trying to get them to mate.

I like bars just after they open for the evening. When the air inside is still cool and clean and everything is shiny and the barkeep is giving himself that last look in the mirror...