"I don't think so. Fitzgerald was obsessed with the idea that a man had to explore all his potential for good and for evil. I think he was trying to justify his own evil. I won't buy that. There's never any excuse for being bad."
"There's being human."
"That's an explanation, not an excuse."
"Tell me more about Sam."
"Well ... most men are overspecialized, only interested in one thing. The friend you like to fish with is a nuisance on a date. The friend you double-date with is a noodnick about ball games. The friend you go to ball games with can't understand books. And so on and so on. You have to make a dozen one-twelfth friends."
"Maybe you demand too much."
"No. I've got a legitimate beef. Art and music, for instance. Butch-type guys stay away from them like the plague. What happens? The fags have inherited, and that puts me in a hell of a spot. If I want to go to the ballet or the opera or an exhibit, it has to be with a fag or alone. And I hate fags worse than Squares."
"Why can't you go with girls?"
"Sweetheart, I love ladies, but I like men too. Men and women think differently, and sometimes I like to be with a man's point of view."
"I'll punish you for that," Gabby said.