I wanted to get up and slap him on the back. I had one of those renewals of complete faith in him that I’d experienced before.
We are all queer fish, queerer behind our faces and voices than we want any one to know or than we know ourselves. When I hear a man proclaiming himself an ‘average, honest, open fellow,’ I feel pretty sure that he has some definite and perhaps terrible abnormality which he has agreed to conceal- and his protestation of being average and honest and open is his way of reminding himself of his misprision.
Of course all life is a process of breaking down, but the blows that do the dramatic side of the work— the big sudden blows that come, or seem to come, from outside— the ones you remember and blame things on and, in moments of weakness, tell your friends about, don’t show their effect all at once.
First love– this was only first love! What must love in its fullness, in its perfection be. He did not know what he was experiencing then, that unreal medley of ecstasy and peace, would be unrecapturable forever.
F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “Love in the Night”
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It’s odd that my old talent for the short story vanished. It was partly that times changed, editors changed, but part of it was tied up somehow with you and me- the happy ending.