Rich girls don't marry poor boys, Jay Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald

"You said a bad driver was only safe until she met another bad driver? Well, I met another bad driver, didn't I? I mean it was careless of me to makes such a wrong guess. I thought you were rather an honest, straightforward person I thought it was your secret pride."

"I'm thirty," I said. "I'm five years too old to lie to myself and call it honor."

She didn't answer. Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.

Her beauty climbed the rolling slope, it came into the room, rustling ghost-like through the curtains...

Baltimore is warm but pleasant... I belong here, where everything is civilized and gay and rotted and polite.