Her beauty climbed the rolling slope, it came into the room, rustling ghost-like through the curtains.

There's so much spring in the air- there's so much lazy sweetness in your heart.

Possibly it had occurred to him the colossal significance of that light had now vanished forever. [...] It had seemed as close as a star to the moon. Now it was a green light on a dock. His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.

Even when everything seems rotten you can't trust that judgment. It's the sum of all your judgments that counts.

I want you to take a red-hot bath as hot as you can bear it, and just relax your nerves. You can read in the tub if you wish.

I learned a little of beauty - enough to know that it had nothing to do with truth - and I found, moreover, that there was no great literary tradition; there was only the tradition of the eventful death of every literary tradition.

why shouldn't he? All life is just a progression toward and then a recession from one phrase-- 'I love you