And I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.

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

Any person with any imagination is bound to be afraid.

You're the only girl I've seen for a long time that actually did look like something blooming.

The first lights of the evening were springing into pale existence. The Ferris wheel, pricked out now in lights, revolved leisurely through the dusk; a few empty cars of the roller coaster rattled overhead.

She confused him and hindered the flow of his ideas. Self-expression had never seemed at once so desirable and so impossible.

the growth of intimacy is like that. First one gives off his best picture, the bright and finished product mended with bluff and falsehood and humour. Then more details are required and one paints a second portrait, and a third – before long the best lines cancel out – and the secret is exposed at last; the planes of the pictures have intermingled and given us away, and though we paint and paint we can no longer sell a picture. We must be satisfied with hoping that such fatuous accounts of ourselves as we make to our wives and children and business associates are accepted as true