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133 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1969
"What can you say about a twenty-five-year-old girl who died? That she was beautiful and brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. The Beatles. And me."We know about Jenny's death from the start, and it is a true testament to Segal's brilliant characterization and narrative skills that her death still hits home, still leaves all but the most heartless readers a bawling blob of tears and snot. It did so for me, and I am a self-proclaimed cold-hearted cynic.
"What the hell makes you so smart?" I asked.
"I wouldn't go for coffee with you," she answered.
"Listen - I wouldn't ask you."
"That," she replied, "is what makes you stupid."
"Part of being a big winner is the ability to be a good loser. There's no paradox involved. It's a distinctly Harvard
thing to be able to turn any defeat into victory.
Of course, an out-and-out triumph is better. I mean, if you have the option, the last-minute score is preferable."
"The difference between a friend and a fan is that with the latter you quickly run out of conversation."
"I was afraid of being rejected, yes. I was also afraid of being accepted for the wrong reasons."
"Please, if one of us cries, let both of us cry. But preferably neither of us."
"'Hey,' I said, 'anything special you want to take
along?'
'Uh uh.' She nodded no, then added as an afterthought,
'You.'”
"Harvard is like Santa's Christmas bag."
"Love means never having to say you're sorry."
«Che cosa si può dire di una ragazza morta a venticinque anni? Che era bella. E simpatica. Che amava Mozart e Bach. E i Beatles. E me. Una volta che mi aveva messo specificamente nel mucchio con tutti quei tizi musicali, le chiesi l'ordine di preferenza, e lei rispose sorridendo: Alfabetico. Sul momento sorrisi anch'io. Ora però mi chiedo se nell'elenco comparivo con il nome - nel qual caso sarei venuto dopo Mozart - oppure con il cognome, perché mi sarei trovato tra Bach e i Beatles. In ogni modo non venivo per primo, il che sarà idiota ma mi secca terribilmente, essendo cresciuto con l'idea che devo essere il numero uno. Eredità di famiglia, capite?»