Once Is Happenstance. Twice Is

Above All, He Liked It That Everything Was One's Own Fault. There Was Only Oneself To Praise Or Blame. Luck Was A Servant And Not A Master. Luck Had To Be Accepted With A Shrug Or Taken Advantage Of Up To The Hilt. But It Had To Be Understood And Recognized For What It Was And Not Confused With A Faulty Appreciation Of The Odds, For, At Gambling, The Deadly Sin Is To Mistake Bad Play For Bad Luck. And Luck In All Its Moods Had To Be Loved And Not Feared

Before A Man's Forty, Girls Cost Nothing. After That You Have To Pay Money, Or Tell A Story. Of The Two, It's The Story That Hurts Most. Anyway I'm Not Forty Yet.

Against The Background Of This Luminous And Sparkling Stage Bond Stood In The Sunshine And Felt His Mission To Be Incongruous And Remote And His Dark Profession An Affront To His Fellow Actors.

You Can Get Far In North America With Laconic Grunts. "huh," "hun," And "hi!" In Their Various Modulations, Together With "sure," "guess So," "that So?" And "nuts!" Will Meet Almost Any Contingency.

I Would Stay Away From Him And Leave Him To Go His Own Road Where There Would Be Other Women, Countless Other Women, Who Would Probably Give Him As Much Physical Pleasure As He Had Had With Me. I Wouldn’t Care, Or At Least I Told Myself That I Wouldn’t Care, Because None Of Them Would Ever Own Him—own Any Larger Piece Of Him Than I Now Did.