“I'm just interested in finding out what the hell goes. I mean do you have to be a goddam bohemian type, or dead, for Chrissake, to be a real poet? What do you want — some bastard with wavy hair?”
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…”