You can have the s'mores: you earned them, clearing the walkway of snow so well.
Macdonald spoke slowly, bitterly. The kidnapping is one too many for me, Costello. I don't want any part of it. I'm takin' a powder from this toy mob. I took a chance that bright boy might side me.
The kidnapping is one too many for me, Costello. I don't want any part of it. I'm takin' a powder from this toy mob. I took a chance that bright boy might side me.
You finish your A levels, you are so busy discovering yourself that you forget to go to college or get a vocation, you start working in a pub, and, when your best and only friend leaves town, you become a loner and invest yourself in things that rely little on the company of others, like pleaching willow and learning how to slum it comfortably under the stars, and singing.
“It's like announcing to the world that you have crabs. It's embarrassing, and no one'll ever shake your hand again.” “But these feelings are not ones of crotchal itching,” she said […]
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