Breitmann was full of surprises; and as the evening wore on, Fitzgerald remembered having seen Breitmann's name at the foot of big newspaper stories.

The man had traveled everywhere, spoke five languages, had been a war correspondent, a sailor in the South Seas, and Heaven knew what else.

He had ridden camels and polo ponies in the Soudan; he had been shot in the Greece-Turkish war, shortly after his having met Fitzgerald; he had played a part in the recent Spanish-American, and had fought against the English in the Transvaal.
"And now I am resting," he concluded, turning his chambertin round and round, giving the effect of a cluster of rubies on the table linen.
"And all my adventures have been as profitable as these," indebted for the moment to the phantom rubies.

"But it's all a great stage, whether you play behind the wings or before the lights.

I am thirty-eight; into twenty of those years I have crowded a century." "You don't look it." "Ah, one does not need to dissipate to live quickly.