These things excite me <i>so</i>,’ she whispered. ‘If you want to kiss me any time during the evening, Nick, just let me know and I'll be glad to arr… - F. Scott Fitzgerald

They weren't happy, and neither of them had touched the chicken or the ale — -and yet they weren't unhappy either. There was an unmistakable air of natural intimacy about the picture and anybody would have said that they were conspiring together.

He loved her, and he would love her until the day he was too old for loving — but he could not have her. So he tasted the deep pain that is reserved only for the strong, just as he had tasted for a little while the deep happiness.

" — I'm a slave to my emotions, to my likes, to my hatred of boredom, to most of my desires — —
"You are not!" She brought one little fist down onto the other. "You're a slave, a bound helpless slave to one thing in the world, your imagination.