"I sit on the terrace reading about the torments of Scott Fitzgerald. I am, he was, one of those men who read the grievous accounts of hard-drinking, self-destructive authors, holding a glass of whiskey in our hands, the tears pouring down our cheeks...When Fitzgerald drops dead, I burst into tears, as I wept over the account of Dylan Thomas's death. This morning I cannot remember anything that occurred after dinner."

~ the journals of John Cheever