All right.

All right.

Oh it isn’t right.

“All right,” Nick said.

Nick said, “All right.”

He was drunk all right.

We kill them all right.

“All right,” said Daisy.

He’ll turn up all right.

“All right,” said his father.

“That’s about right,” he called.

“It’s all right, dear,” she said.

“Did she go all right?” Bill said.

He’s there, all right, Manuel thought.

“Put it right in,” Dick Boulton shouted.

“All right. Come on, then,” his father said.

“Oh, you’re a great man, all right,” he said.

I think he did right, though, shooting those chaps.

It would have been all right with Mrs. Smith but Liz was afraid.

It’ll be all right for bait but it’s better with the ventral fin in.

She couldn’t wait till she saw Jim and it seemed as though everything would be all right when he came.

“That’s all right maybe this time,” said Drevitts, “but how did you know they were wops when you bumped them off?”

She felt Jim right through the back of the chair and she couldn’t stand it and then something clicked inside of her and the feeling was warmer and softer.

No⁠—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.

The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard⁠—it was a factual imitation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool, and more than forty acres of lawn and garden.

If it happened right down close in front of you, you could see Villalta snarl at the bull and curse him, and when the bull charged he swung back firmly like an oak when the wind hits it, his legs tight together, the muleta trailing and the sword following the curve behind.