You aren’t funny.

“You aren’t,” Bill said.

Aren’t you my beau, Hare?

“You aren’t drunk,” Bill said.

You’re a tough one, aren’t you?

“They aren’t striking,” he said.

The other girls aren’t much good.

Aren’t you going to stay and eat?

“Aren’t you running a lunch-counter?”

You’re a pretty bright boy, aren’t you?

“The mountains aren’t much,” George said.

“There aren’t any bullfighters any more,” Retana said.

You aren’t making me any money in Philadelphia, are you?

Why the hell aren’t you out here when I ought to have you?

It’s a rotten day and we aren’t going to have any fun, anyway.

If you aren’t in with him, you might just as well go out and shoot yourself.

“Aren’t you going back to work, dear?” asked the doctor’s wife from the room where she was lying with the blinds drawn.