There was one of his lonelinesses coming, one of those times when he walked the streets or sat, aimless and depressed, biting a pencil at his desk. It was a self-absorption with no comfort, a demand for expression with no outlet, a sense of time rushing by, ceaselessly and wastefully - assuaged only by that conviction that there was nothing to waste, because all efforts and attainments were equally valueless.

A big man has no time really to do anything but just sit and be big.

Amory: I love you. Rosalind: I love you- now.

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.

Riches have never fascinated me, unless combined with the greatest charm or distinction.

No such thing as a man willing to be honest - that would be like a blind man willing to see.

I hope something happens. I'm restless as the devil and have a horror of getting fat or falling in love and growing domestic.