She wore life as a rose in her bosom. - O. Henry

Of habit, the power that keeps the earth from flying to pieces; though there is some silly theory of gravitation.

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence