In New York there is always something to look at, but it is all infinitely more interesting through a window in the backseat of a limousine.

He was just like summer, and she loved summer. If she had any wish, it would be to live a lifetime of summers.

Instead, he sat in the parlor of his family's Fifth Avenue mansion, growing older by the minute just like everybody else.

Henry shook his head, 'I was drunk,' he said, trying to sound both ashamed and firm in this belief. He remembered the rosebush incident very clearly, of course, but he knew that sneaking into the bedroom window of his fiancee's little sister wasn't something he wanted to explain to his father. Sometimes, Henry reflected, being taken for a perpetual drunk was sort of convenient.

There was no pleasure like being envied on a mass scale.

Well, if you weren't flirting with him"-his voice had now grown a little plaintive-"who was he, and what did you want with him anyway?" "If you are so determined to bore me, I may just have to go home." Astrid sighed carelessly, "What a shame, when I am wearing such a pretty dress.

Among her other talents were forgetting what she did not like and ignoring what she preferred not to see.