Quotes
Gallegher, his lank form reclining under the liquor organ, siphoned a shot of double martini into his mouth
I think my subconscious must have a high I.Q
“The mist on the glass is congealing, ’tis the hurricane’s icy breath. And it shows how the warmth of friendship grows cold in the clasp of death. So stand, stand to your glasses steady, and drink to your sweetheart’s eyes.”
Beautiful writing
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