We can't possibly have a summer love. So many people have tried that the name's become proverbial. Summer is only the unfulfilled promise of spring, a charlatan in place of the warm balmy nights I dream of in April. It's a sad season of life without growth...It has no day.

When he buys his ties he has to ask if gin will make them run.

At fifteen you had the radiance of early morning, at twenty you will begin to have the melancholy brilliance of the moon.

I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known.

It is not necessarily poverty of spirit that makes a woman surround herself with life - it can be a superabundance of interest.

He did not understand all he had heard, but from his clandestine glimpse into the privacy of these two, with all the world that his short experience could conceive of at their feet, he had gathered that life for everybody was a struggle, sometimes magnificent from a distance, but always difficult and surprisingly simple and a little sad.

Was it the infinite sadness of her eyes that drew him or the mirror of himself that he found in the gorgeous clarity of her mind?