I Love You For Who You Are,

He Took Comfort In The Neon Signs, The Wild Strands Of Jazz Creeping Out Of Clubs Whenever Happy Swells Of People Pushed Through The Doors In Their Finery.

I Changed My Mind. I Don’t Want To Be An Inveshtigative Journalist Anymore. I Want To Be A Professional Rum Drinker.” “there Are People Who Do That,” Duff Said. He’d Barely Sipped His Rum. “really? What Do You Call Them?” “alcoholics.

On The Bowery, In The Ornate Carcass Of A Formerly Grand Vaudeville Theater, A Dance Marathon Limps Along. The Contestants, Young Girls And Their Fellas, Hold One Another Up, Determined To Make Their Mark, To Bite Back At The Dreams Sold To Them In Newspaper Advertisements And On The Radio. They Have Sores On Their Feet But Stars In Their Eyes.

Cash Or Check?” He Said Cheekily. Even The Dullest Ohio Girls Knew That Bit Of Lingo: Kiss Now Or Kiss Later? “bank’s Closed, Pal.

Will Was Making A Speech, Something About Having Been Young And Careless Once, The Sort Of Thing Old-timers Said When They Issued A Deathblow, As If They Thought Their Sanctimonious Ramblings Disguised As Empathy Would Be Welcomed, But Evie Was Only Half Listening.