“I'm a cynical idealist.' He paused and wondered if that meant anything.”

“I'm a cynical idealist.”

“A pause; it endured horribly.”

“Sometimes when you're around I've been tempted to kiss you suddenly and tell you that you were just an idealistic boy with a lot of caste nonsense in his head.”

“You're not in love with me. You never wanted to marry me, did you?' 'It was the twilight,' he said wonderingly.”

“I'm very damn wet!' he said aloud to the sundial.”

“I'll never be a poet,' said Amory as he finished. 'I'm not enough of a sensualist really; there are only a few obvious things that I notice as primarily beautiful: women, spring evenings, music at night, the sea; I don't catch the subtle things like 'silver-snarling trumpets.' I may turn out an intellectual, but I'll never right anything but mediocre poetry.”