Go on, she urged. Lie to me by the moonlight. Do a fabulous story. - F. Scott Fitzgerald

I'll never be a poet,' said Amory as he finished. 'I'm not enough of a sensualist really; there are only a few obvious things that I notice as primarily beautiful: women, spring evenings, music at night, the sea; I don't catch the subtle things like 'silver-snarling trumpets.' I may turn out an intellectual, but I'll never right anything but mediocre poetry.

He snatched the book from me and replaced it hastily on its shelf, muttering that if one brick was removed the whole library was liable to collapse.

Oh, it doesn't get me. I'm pretty well cloistered, and I suppose books mean more than people to me anyway.