it's always dull here.
yes. that's what my publishers have been complaining about.
i've been playing the harmonica for forty years - didn't do me a bit of good.
the difference between them and me is i know when i've been a skunk. you take me to the nearest news-stand and i'll eat a pack of your postcards raw. raw!
oh, what a magnificent deflation of smugness. pal, you've added ten years to my life! a poet with a straight left and a right hook - delicious! delicious! you're my guest from now on - forever and a day - even unto eternity!
fine, fine. swell, you just showed me a sight lovely to behold, and i'd like to reciprocate. listen, you hop aboard my magic carpet
well, you'll not only see those, but before the evening's half through, you'll be leaning against the leaning tower of pisa - you'll mount mt. everest. i'll show you the pyramids and all the little pyramiddes, leaping from sphinx to sphinx. pal, how would you like to go on a real, old-fashioned binge?
yes. i mean the real mccoy. listen, you play saloon with me, and i'll introduce you to every wit, every nit-wit, and every half-wit in new york. we'll go on a twister that'll make omar the soused philosopher of persia look like an anemic on a goat's milk diet.
fun? say, listen, i'll take you on a bender that will live in your memory as a thing of beauty and joy forever.