You come to know the aches and vanities and tastes and intrigues of an entire neighborhood at a drug store.

What you don't know intrigues you more than what you do know.

Touch was important. The evening of the Third of July we would go around the neighborhood and look at the fireworks others had bought, taking them out of the brown paper sack and handling them cautiously as if they were precious stones. There was envy when we saw sacks with more in them than we had.

I think it just ruins the entire neighborhood.

Wisdom is knowing when you can't be wise.

Without vision you don't see, and without practicality the bills don't get paid.