Death Is The Only Real Elegance.

Nobody Has Ever Measured, Not Even Poets, How Much The Heart Can Hold.

["the Sun Also Rises" Is About] Bullfighting, Bullslinging And Bullsh[*]t.

Maybe Other People's Ideas Of Us Are Truer Than Our Own.

It Seems To Me That On One Page I Recognized A Portion Of An Old Diary Of Mine Which Mysteriously Disappeared Shortly After My Marriage, And, Also, Scraps Of Letters Which, Though Considerably Edited, Sound To Me Vaguely Familiar. In Fact, Mr. Fitzgerald (i Believe That Is How He Spells His Name) Seems To Believe That Plagiarism Begins At Home.

Why Is There Happiness And Comfort And Excitement Where You Are And No Where Else In The World.