I'm merely trying to give you the sort of argument that would appeal to your intelligence.
F. Scott FitzgeraldHer face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth, but there was an excitement in her voice that men who had cared for her found difficult to forget: a singing compulsion, a whispered โListen,โ a promise that she had done gay, exciting things just a while since and that there were gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour.
F. Scott Fitzgeraldtaking her hand he led her out into a broad stretch of hard sandy soil that the moon flooded with great splendor. They floated out like drifting moths under the rich hazy light, and as the fantastic symphony wept and exulted and wavered and despaired, Ardita's last sense of reality dropped away, and she abandonded her imagination to the dreamy summer scents of tropial flowers and the infinite starry spaces overhead, feeling that if she opened her eyes it would be to find herself dancing with a ghost in a land created by her own fantasy.
F. Scott Fitzgerald