: “All the bright precious things fade so fast… and they don’t come back…”

“Daisy was young and her artificial world was redolent of orchids and pleasant, cheerful snobbery and orchestras which set the rhythm of the year, summing up the sadness and suggestiveness of life in new tunes”. 

“At his lips’ touch she blossomed like a flower and the incarnation was complete.”  

“The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain.”

“[She had] the kind of voice that the ear follows up and down, as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again… . [T]here was an excitement in her voice that men who had cared for her found difficult to forget: a singing compulsion, a whispered “Listen,” a promise that she had done gay, exciting things just a while since and that there were gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour”.