You have a place in my heart no one else ever could have.

If that was true he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high price for living too long with a single dream.

Intelligence is a mere instrument of circumstances.

The rhythm of the weekend, with its birth, its planned gaiety, and its announced end, followed the rhythm of life and was a substitute for it.

I won’t kiss you. It might get to be a habit and I can’t get rid of habits.

But I always felt that I'd rather be provincial hot-tamale than soup without seasoning.

He snatched out his hand desperately as if to snatch only a wisp of air, to save a fragment of the spot that she had made lovely for him. But it was all going by too fast now for his burred eyes and he knew that he had lost that part of it, the freshest and the best, forever.