Sitting with her on Sunday evening — a wet Sunday evening — the very time of all others when if a friend is at hand the heart must be opened, and every thing told…

I'll work with my father loyally untill I become a great man.

[The Fitzgeralds] rode down Fifth Avenue on the top of taxis because it was hot or dove into the fountain at Union Square or tried to undress at the Scandals, or, in sheer delight at the splendor of new York, jumped, dead sober, into the Pulitzer fountain in front of the Plaza. Fitzgerald got in fights with waiters and Zelda danced on people’s dinner tables.

When the night burned its cloak in the sunrise...

Written By Tanith Lee

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