Nicole's world had fallen to pieces, but it was only a flimsy and scarcely created world; beneath it her emotions and instincts fought on.

It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living.

I learned a little of beauty - enough to know that it had nothing to do with truth.

She was beautiful - but especially she was without mercy.

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

They had never been closer in their month of love, nor communicated more profoundly one with another, than when she brushed silent lips against his coat's shoulder or when he touched the end of her fingers, gently, as though she were asleep.

Very well then, better a sane crook than a mad puritan.