Good night, sweetheart,” he says. “Good bye, sweetheart,” I say. And it’s so casual, so innocent that he doesn’t suspect a thing.
- If the stars should appear but one night every thousand years how man would marvel and stare.
- We want to do a lot of stuff; we’re not in great shape, we didn’t get a good night’s sleep, we’re a little depressed. Coffee solves all these problems in one delightful little cup.