“What in hell is a girl with hips like yours doing selling death?”

“I hate doctors! They'll do anything... to keep you coming to them. They'll sell their souls. What's worse, they'll sell yours, and you never know it till one day you find yourself in hell.”

“What's Walmart, do they sell like wall stuff?”

“If I owned hell and west Texas, he said, I do believe I'd sell west Texas and live in hell.”

“What are you doing here?” [ndr prison]Selling Girl Scout cookies,” I said. “Want some? The Samoas are terrific.”(Max II to Max)”

“No sight so sad as that of a naughty child," he began, "especially a naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked go after death?""They go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer."And what is hell? Can you tell me that?""A pit full of fire.""And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?""No, sir.""What must you do to avoid it?"I deliberated a moment: my answer, when it did come was objectionable: "I must keep in good health and not die.”