She smiled at him, making sure that the smile gathered up everything inside her and directed it toward him, making him a profound promise of herself for so little, for the beat of a response, the assurance of a complimentary vibration in him.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
I suppose the latest thing is to sit back and let Mr. Nobody from Nowhere make love to your wife.
Selfish people are in a way terribly capable of great loves.
They were careless people...they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made....
Junior writers $300; Minor poets—$500 a week; Broken novelists—$850-1000; One play dramatists—$1500; Sucks—$2000. Wits—$2500.
I had taken two finger-bowls of champagne, and the scene had changed before my eyes into something significant, elemental, and profound.