My true friends have always given me that supreme proof of devotion, a spontaneous aversion for the man I loved. Break of Day (1928)
If one wished to be perfectly sincere, one would have to admit there are two kinds of love—well-fed and ill-fed. The rest is pure fiction.
I love my past. I love my present. I'm not ashamed of what I've had, and I'm not sad because I have it no longer.