She runs the gamut of emotions from A to B.

Summer makes me drowsy. Autumn makes me sing. Winter's pretty lousy, but I hate Spring.

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 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.

If, with the literate, I am Impelled to try an epigram, I never seek to take the credit; We all assume that Oscar said it.

Civilization is coming to an end, you understand.

Creativity is a wild mind and a disciplined eye.