The Victor Belongs To The Spoils.

Her Voice Is Full Of Money.

Those Days Are Over. I Have To Be Won All Over Again Every Time You See Me.

The City Seen From The Queensboro Bridge Is Always The City Seen For The First Time, In Its First Wild Promise Of All The Mystery And The Beauty In The World.

We Want To Believe. Young Students Try To Believe In Older Authors, Constituents Try To Believe In Their Congressmen, Countries Try To Believe In Their Statesmen, But They Can't. Too Many Voices, Too Much Scattered, Illogical Ill-considered Criticism.

She Admired Him; She Was Used To Clutching Her Hands Together In His Wake And Heaving Audible Sighs.