I can’t exactly describe how I feel but it’s not quite right. And it leaves me cold.

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

Even when the east excited me most, even when I was keenly aware of its superiority to the broad, sprawling, swollen towns beyond the Ohio, with their interminable inquisitions which only spared children and the very old-even then it had always for me a quality of distortion.

And he could not tell why the struggle was worthwhile, why he had determined to use the utmost himself and his heritage from the personalities he had passed... He stretched out his arms to the crystalline, radiant sky. I know myself," he cried, "But that is all.

This is what I think now: that the natural state of the sentient adult is a qualified unhappiness.

The transition from libertine to prig was so complete.

I don't care about truth. I want some happiness.