Goodbye To Berlin

“Yes but not for long. Poor Scott. Terribly black-ass. He’d come to collect some things he’d left in storage.” “Was he with Zelda?” “No, he had to put her somewhere for safekeeping. He was feeling bereft and sorry for himself, and for her. We were having dinner at the Closerie. ‘Just imagine,’ he said, ‘ten years ago we were the Golden Girl and her

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A clear starry sky looked down upon the dark abodes of humanity. Kerkau castle lay in the deep stillness of night. And yet a woman with fair curly hair buried her head in the pillows and could find no sleep. Tomorrow, ah tomorrow, one she loves, her sweetheart, was to forsake her. A whisper passed (ran) through the gloomy, impenetrable (dark) night

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For Paris is, according to its legend, the city where everyone loses his head, and his morals, lives through at least one histoire d’amour, ceases, quite, to arrive anywhere on time, and thumbs his nose at the Puritans—the city, in brief, where all become drunken on the fine old air of freedom. This legend, in the fashion of legends, has this much

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