Jesteśmy społecznością, która kocha książki

Expressing a human need, I always wanted to write a book that ended with the word Mayonnaise.

Now in San Francisco, with the cold autumn wind upon them, they had decided that the future held only two directions:
They were either going to open up a flea circus or commit themselves to an insane asylum.

Ah, yes, there was a future in the insane asylum. No winter spent there could be a total loss.

He descended upon North Beach like a chapter from the Old Testament. He was the reason birds migrate in the autumn. They have to. He was the cold turning of the earth; the bad wind that blows off sugar.

The creek was like 12,845 telephone booths in a row with high Victorian ceilings and all the doors taken off and all the backs of the booths knocked out.