I used to indulge in lonely debauches, on nights when I knew my crew was going to sleep ashore.

I would go up to the Free Library, exchange my books, buy a quarter's worth of all sorts of candy that chewed and lasted, sneak aboard the Razzle Dazzle, lock myself in the cabin, go to bed, and lie there long hours of bliss, reading and chewing candy.

And those were the only times I felt that I got my real money's worth.

Dollars and dollars, across the bar, couldn't buy the satisfaction that twenty-five cents did in a candy store.
As my drinking grew heavier, I began to note more and more that it was in the drinking bouts the purple passages occurred.

Drunks were always memorable.