So am I.

I am sure.

I am so sorry.

I am a bullfighter.

Oh, I am so soused.

Am I getting soused?

I am perfectly happy.

Am I really your girl?

Hogan’s as dumb as I am.

“Just like I am,” he said.

You’re ten years older than I am.

I am not really a good bull fighter!

I am, and you are, and you are, and⁠—

“You’re pretty near as old as I am,” Zurito said.

“I am utterly unable to resign myself,” he said and choked.

“I am in love with her,” Pinin said, “but I do not write her.”

“With me now,” Jack said, “it don’t make any difference where I am.”

“I am so sorry,” he said, and patted me on the shoulder with his good hand.

I do not think he ever missed a day, although I am sure he did not believe in the machines.

Do not think that I am very much impressed by that as a boxing title, but it meant a lot to Cohn.

So while now I am fairly sure that it would not really have gone out, yet then, that summer, I was unwilling to make the experiment.

And I am sure many times too that I slept without knowing it⁠—but I never slept knowing it, and on this night I listened to the silkworms.

I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested, and I snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth.