Lie to me by the moonlight. Do a fabulous story. - F. Scott Fitzgerald

...there seemed some necessity of taking all or nothing; it was as if for the remainder of his life he was condemned to carry with him the egos of certain people, early met and early loved, and to be only as complete as they were complete themselves. There was some element of loneliness involved — so easy to be loved — so hard to love.

They talked aimlessly back and forth, each speaking for the other.

Then it had not been merely the stars to which he had aspired on that June night. He came alive to me, delivered suddenly from the womb of his purposeless splendour.