… she received V-letters by the bale. They were always torn into strips likes bookmarks. I used occasionally to pluck myself a bookmark in passing. Remember and miss you and rain and please write and goddamn were the words that recurred most often on these slips; those, and lonesome and love.
I don’t want to own anything until I know I’ve found the place where me and things belong together. I’m not quite sure where that is just yet. But I know what it’s like. [..] It’s like Tiffany’s. […] It calms me down right away, the quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there, not with those kind men in their nice suits, and that lovely smell of silver and alligator wallets, If I could find a real-life place that made me feel like Tiffany’s, then I’d buy some furniture and give the cat a name.