All I think of ever is that I love you.

I used to build dreams about you.

Possibly it had occurred to him the colossal significance of that light had now vanished forever. [...] It had seemed as close as a star to the moon. Now it was a green light on a dock. His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.

Once we were one person, and always it will be a little that way.

Some men have a necessity to be mean, as if they were exercising a faculty which they had to partially neglect since early childhood.

The transition from libertine to prig was so complete.

The sun had gone down behind the tall apartments of the movie stars in the West Fifties, and the unclear voices of children, already gathered like crikets on the grass, rose through the hot twilight.