"what's So Unpleasant About Being Drunk?" "ask

Ford Looked At Him Severely. And No Sneaky Knocking Down Mr Dent's House Whilst He's Away, Alright?" He Said. The Mere Thought," Growled Mr Prosser, "hadn't Even Begun To Speculate," He Continued, Settling Himself Back, "about The Merest Possibility Of Crossing My Mind.

Driving A Porsche In London Is Like Bringing A Ming Vase To A Football Game.

But For A Moment Dirk Had A Sense Of Inifinite Loss And Sadness That Somewhere Among The Frenzy Of Information Noise That Daily Rattled The Lives Of Men He Thought He Might Have Heard A Few Notes That Denoted The Movements Of Gods.

It's Not The Fall That Kills You; It's The Sudden Stop At The End.

Here, For Whatever Reason, Is The World. And Here It Stays. With Me On It.