It was about then [1920] that I wrote a line which certain people will not let me forget: "She was a faded but still lovely woman of twenty-seven."

Amory thought how it was only the past that seemed strange and unbelievable.

It seemed that the only lover she had ever wanted was a lover in a dream.

And in the end, we were all just humans...Drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.

Though the Jazz Age continued it became less and less an affair of youth. The sequel was like a children's party taken over by the elders.

Here was a new generation, shouting the old cries, learning the old creeds, through a revery of long days and nights; destined finally to go out into that dirty gray turmoil to follow love and pride; a new generation dedicated more than the last to the fear of poverty and the worship of success; grown up to find all Gods dead, all wars fought, all faiths in man shaken.

Young people do not perceive at once that the giver of wounds is the enemy and the quoted tattle merely the arrow.