Looking back over a decade one sees the ideal of a university become a myth, a vision, a meadow lark among the smoke stacks. Yet perhaps it is there at Princeton, only more elusive than under the skies of the Prussian Rhineland or Oxfordshire; or perhaps some men come upon it suddenly and possess it, while others wander forever outside. Even these seek in vain through middle age for any corner of the republic that preserves so much of what is fair, gracious, charming and honorable in American life.

I've got an adjective that just fits you.

Lie to me by the moonlight. Do a fabulous story.

He snatched the book from me and replaced it hastily on its shelf, muttering that if one brick was removed the whole library was liable to collapse.

Let's borrow life preservers and jump over. I think we should do something spectacular. I feel that all our lives have been too restrained.

Work like hell! I had 122 rejection slips before I sold a story.

Dishonesty in a woman is a thing you never blame deeply.