I misremember who first was cruel enough to nurture the cocktail party into life. But perhaps it would be not too much to say, in fact it would be not enough to say, that it was not worth the trouble.

Should they whisper false of you, Never trouble to deny; Should the words they say be true, Weep and storm and say they lie.

I was always sweet, at first. Oh, it's so easy to be sweet to people before you love them.

Excuse me, everybody, I have to go to the bathroom. I really have to telephone, but I'm too embarrassed to say so.

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.

[On being told party guests were ducking for apples:] There, but for a typographical error, is the story of my life.

His books are exciting and powerful and — if I may filch the word from the booksy ones — pulsing.