I tell you Schoonmaker she doesn't know what she has. That's the heart of it. She's like some wild creature who hasn't a clue the worth of its coat.
Life was a short window and there was no sense in doing the wrong thing over and over even if it was so difficult to stop.
She had rarely been near Henry since then, and the sight of him now was like a concentrated dose.
She was trying to sound tough and impatient, but she knew that vulnerable desire to be wooed was still brimming in her tone.
That is what I want to tell you about: the girls with their short skirts and bright eyes and big-city dreams. The girls of 1929.
Though her emotions had not deviated from a jittery frailty she knew that in her own room she could at least attempt sleep and that if she dreamed she might then finally be with Henry.
He turned his dark eyes on the girl whom he had dreamed of so often over the previous months. Beside him, at that very moment of existence, at the heart of torrential downpour, she was exquisitely real, and she, too, seemed content to go on sitting there forever.
Even when a girl is married she still never completely leaves her mother and father's home.
As she always did on any really important day, Penelope Hayes wore red.
Darling, don't be silly, your whole future is ahead of you. All you have to do is go out there and ask for a part- something small and reasonable just to start with. From there, no one can stop you. Don't feel bad about anything you've done, and for God's sake, have fun.
Good night.' Diana summoned all the dignity that she could manage in her bedraggled state and began to move back up the beach. Her dress was soaked and her stockings dotted with sand and her heart couldn't possibly withstand any more.
Her heart the damned thing had begun to race and she only hoped that the rapid inflation and deflation of her chest wasn't visible beneath her fitted bodice.
Living too much in one's head can be dangerous.
A man is made in the rough-and-tumble of the world a lady emerges from the flossy back rooms of her own imagination.
They were all dressed in their finest as though life really were some magical stage play in which every moment ought to be illuminated with its own bright spotlight.