She Gave Me A Smile I Could

It Was About Eleven O'clock In The Morning, Mid October, With The Sun Not Shining And A Look Of Hard Wet Rain In The Clearness Of The Foothills. I Was Wearing My Powder-blue Suit, With Dark Blue Shirt, Tie And Display Handkerchief, Black Brogues, Black Wool Socks With Dark Little Clocks On Them. I Was Neat, Clean, Shaved And Sober, And I Didn't Care Who Knew It. I Was Everything The Well-dressed Private Detective Ought To Be. I Was Calling On Four Million Dollars.

She Was The Music Heard Faintly On The Edge Of Sound.

If You Believe In An Idea, You Don't Own You, It Owns You.

He Sounded Like A Man Who Had Slept Well And Didn't Owe Too Much Money.

The More You Reason The Less You Create.