You’re just the romantic age,” she continued- “fifty. Twenty-five is too worldly wise; thirty is apt to be pale from overwork; forty is the age of long stories that take a whole cigar to tell; sixty is- oh, sixty is too near seventy; but fifty is the mellow age. I love fifty.” - Hildegarde

In short, you have only your emotions to sell. This is the experience of all writers.

Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.

Was it the infinite sadness of her eyes that drew him or the mirror of himself that he found in the gorgeous clarity of her mind?

Tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.

Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat.

Celibacy goes deeper than the flesh.