All that kept her from breaking was that it was not an image of strength that was leaving her; she would be just as strong without him. - F. Scott Fitzgerald

"And he could not tell why the struggle was worthwhile, why he had determined to use the utmost himself and his heritage from the personalities he had passed...

He stretched out his arms to the crystalline, radiant sky.

I know myself," he cried, "But that is all."

I’m thirty,” I said. “I’m five years too old to lie to myself and call it honor

I love New York on summer afternoons when everyone's away. There's something very sensuous about it - overripe, as if all sorts of funny fruits were going to fall into your hands.