They had spent a year in France for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together.

The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain.

Well, let it pass, he thought; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice. --The Sensible Thing

As we passed over the dark bridge her wan face fell lazily against my coat's shoulder and the formidable stroke of thirty died away with the reassuring pressure of her hand.

All things come to him who mates.

No grand idea was ever born in a conference, but a lot of foolish ideas have died there.

No decent career was ever founded on a public.