I gathered we were headed over Nob Hill, and from the angle, it seemed we were taking one of the steeper routes.
We don't know a millionth of one percent about anything.
I opened my mouth, then shut it, then, very slowly, I held my hands up in front of me.
By the time I'd grown up, I naturally supposed that I'd be grown up.
If my mental map was right, we were heading down to Fisherman's Wharf.
The first duty of a revolutionary is to get away with it.
When we ask for advice, we are usually looking for an accomplice.