She flirted because it was fun to flirt and wore a one-piece bathing suit because she had a good figure; she covered her face with powder and paint because she didn't need it and she refused to be bored chiefly because she wasn't boring.
I've tried so many times to think of a new way to say it—and its still I love you—love you—love you—my Sweetheart—
I wish the Beautiful and Damned had been a maturely written book because it was all true. We ruined ourselves—I have never honestly thought that we ruined each other
There was Paris and the heat and the ice-cream that did not melt and buying clothes—and Rome and your friends from the British Embassy and your drinking, drinking.
We lived in the rue Tilsitt, in red plush and Teddy came for tea and we went to the markets with the Murphies.
There were the Wimans and Mary Hay and Eva La Galliene [Le Gallienne] and rides in the Bois at dawn and the night we all played puss-in-the-corner at the Ritz.
We drank corn on the wings of an aeroplane in the moon-light and danced at the country-club and came back.
The Friday Letter
One story from the atlas, every Friday.
No algorithms chasing attention. A work, a place, and the connection between them — with the history checked.
