Each should be a Symbol—that's what I always ask myself each night now: "Have I been a Symbol today? Or have I failed to be a Symbol?"
Down at the beach last week I nearly drowned—you don't mean to say you hadn't heard of it? It was frightful.
I'd always heard that, when a person sinks, his whole past life passes before him in review.
But it didn't with me. What I said as I went down was: "Have I been a Symbol? Or have I failed?"
And the life guard who got me out—he was simply the most gorgeous man!—Burned bronze, you know, and with shoulders like a Greek god! and with the most wonderful eyes and white teeth—he asked me, the guard did, "What, marm?"
It was fearfully disappointing! Sometimes they are college men, you know, just life-guarding through the summer. But would any college man have said, "What, marm?"
And then he went and saved a blonde creature in the most scandalous bathing suit I ever saw.
He saved one in the most business-like way, too, as if he were a waiter, you know, passing from one table to another.
No wonder the social fabric is crumbling when quite impossible people like life guards permit them selves to become blasé over such matters!
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