Never miss a party...good for the nerves--like celery.

We haven’t met for many years, said Daisy, her voice as matter-of-fact as it could ever be. "Five years next November." The automatic quality set us all back at least another minute.

I suppose books mean more than people to me anyway

I'll drink your champagne. I'll drink every drop of it, I don't care if it kills me.

I'm merely trying to give you the sort of argument that would appeal to your intelligence.

but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seeking, a little wistfully, for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game

I was thirty. Before me stretched the portentous, menacing road of a new decade.