I've been drunk for about a week now, and I thought it might sober me up to sit in a library.

I'm a romantic; a sentimental person thinks things will last, a romantic person hopes against hope that they won't.

This unlikely story begins on a sea that was a blue dream, as colorful as blue-silk stockings, and beneath a sky as blue as the irises of children's eyes. From the western half of the sky the sun was shying little golden disks at the sea--if you gazed intently enough you could see them skip from wave tip to wave tip until they joined a broad collar of golden coin that was collecting half a mile out and would eventually be a dazzling sunset.

You've got an awfully kissable mouth.

The ability to hold two competing thoughts in one's mind and still be able to function is the mark of a superior mind

"I was counting the waves", replied Amory gravely, "I'm going in for statistics".

smoking had come to be an important punctuation mark in the long sentence of a day on the road.