“I don't suppose a writing man ever really gets rid of his old crocus-yellow neckties. Sooner or later, I think, they show up in his prose, and there isn't a hell of a lot he can do about it.”
More from J. D. Salinger
“I pretended she was you.”
“I don’t love her any more, either. I don’t know. I do and I don’t. It varies. It…”
“I just hope that one day—preferably when we're both blind drunk—we can talk about it.”
“...she was terrific to hold hands with. Most girls if you hold hands with them, their…”