Men don’t often know those times when a girl could be had for nothing.

Tireless passion, fierce jealousy, longing to possess and crush-these alone were left of all his love for Rosalind; these remained to him as payment for the loss of his youth-bitter calomel under the thin sugar of love's exaltation.

Well, let it pass, he thought; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice. --The Sensible Thing

Draw your chair up close to the edge of the precipice and I’ll tell you a story.

And Yale is November, crisp and energetic.

Life cracked like ice!

He dispensed starlight to casual moths.