Her smell, her hair there on the pillow. She looked at him like a cat. He felt her small will, her feminine will. He took her by the hair. You gonna get me off, girl? Well are yah? It's important that I get off. You're a nice person and all, and I like you. But you know.
When Johnny was a boy, the only time he ever told the truth was when he got a lie turned backwards on accident. You know the kind. Well, he never did stop, really. If you ever happen to be a stranger in one of the two bars in that town, and you per chance strike up a conversation with a mustachioed man drinking whiskey by himself, you're libel to be taken on a doozy of a trip.
Men who will die graveless.