I would love to have a little inside knowledge that my grandfather's friends took down a president, but the reality is an endless procession of desperate little ganefs—and most of them are very small—trying to stay one step ahead of cops in suits from Sy Syms.

The weather isn't so bad. I mean, it's dripping, but you're not going to get so wet.

The text of the manuscript is corrupt.

To reach our sleeping quarters under the roof we were obliged to climb seven flights of stairs and after tumping a blanket roll and a ruck-sack up these, both our breath and enthusiasm had suffered abatement.