A Kiss May Not Be The Truth,

I Like A Woman With A Head On Her Shoulders. I Hate Necks.

I'm Tired Of Wasting Letters When Punctuation Will Do, Period.

What I Mean Is That None Of My Talents Had A - What's That Great Word - Rubric. A Singer, An Actor, A Dancer - There Was Nothing I Could Really Say I Was. The Writing Came Much Later. And, Actually, Thank God, Because If I Had Said I'm A Singer, I Would Really Have Just Had One Thing To Do.

It's Not Tipping I Believe In. It's Overtipping.

...a Young Man, Jamaican, Perhaps, His Head Circled In A Scarf With Sunbleached Dreadlocks On Piled On Top, Looking Like A Plate Of Soft-shell Crabs.