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I bought a seven-dollar pen because I always lose pens and I got sick of not caring.

Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery.

Once you sell yourself, it's over. You've got nothing left.

I suppose I will go on selling newspapers until at last will come the late night final.

After all, tomorrow is another day.

I still do some inking here and there and I've actually got a book that I'm going to ink entirely.

I wish I could play the whole game and come back tomorrow.

When the day's work is over, it's over.