[On being shown an apartment by a real estate agent:] Oh, dear, that's much too big. All I need is room enough to lay a hat and a few friends.

Quick!! Act as if nothing has happened!

I don't mind anything that's written about me, as long as it's not true.

Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.

If all the young ladies who attended the Yale promenade dance were laid end to end, no one would be the least surprised.

Perhaps it suddenly brought to us the sense of change. Or irresponsibility. But don't forget that, though the people in the twenties seemed like flops, they weren't. Fitzgerald, the rest of them, reckless as they were, drinkers as they were, they worked damn hard and all the time.

I wanted to be cute. That's the terrible thing. I should have had more sense.