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The Monday Morning Memo

“You see?
If Mrs. Trent had not so perfectly mastered the art of roasting, the young lieutenant might have kept his attention on the Princess instead of washing down a third helping of beef with an eighth glass of wine. If the temperature that night had not dropped six degrees in as many hours, the ice might not have formed in the drive, your portly friend might not have fallen, and the card game might not have been played. And if the sight of snow had not prompted the footmen to build the fires so high, you might not have ended up on the terrace in the arms of the birthday girl – as a young Hussar returned his supper to the pasture from whence it came.”

– Amor Towles
A Gentleman in Moscow, p. 150

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Random Quote:

“Where is Danny? Lonely as smoke on a clear, cold night, he drifts through Monterey in the evening. To the post-office he goes, to the station, to the pool rooms on Alvarado Street, to the wharf where the black water mourns among the piles. What is it, Danny? What makes you feel this way? Danny didn’t know. There was an ache in his heart like the farewell to a dear woman; there was vague sorrow in him like the despair of autumn. He walked past the restaurants he used to smell with interest, and no appetite was aroused in him. He walked by Madam Zuca’s great establishment, and exchanged no obscene jests with the girls in the windows. Back to the wharf he went. He looked over the rail into the deep, deep water. Do you know, Danny, how the wine of your life is pouring into the fruit jars of the gods? Do you see the procession of your days in the oily waters among the piles? He remained motionless, staring down.”

- From Chapter XVI of Tortilla Flat, by John Steinbeck (1935)

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