As Long As You Can Start, You

Scott Fitzgerald Was Mortally Afraid Of Lightning.

The Brown Blotches Of The Benevolent Skin Cancer The Sun Brings From Its Reflection On The Tropic Sea Were On His Cheeks. The Blotches Ran Well Down The Sides Of His Face And His Hands Had The Deep-creased Scars From Handling Heavy Fish On The Cords. But None Of These Scars Were Fresh. They Were As Old As Erosions In A Fishless Desert.

To Be A Successful Father... There's One Absolute Rule: When You Have A Kid, Don't Look At It For The First Two Years.

In Modern War... You Will Die Like A Dog For No Good Reason.

Drinking Is A Way Of Ending The Day.