“Once I stood where we’re standing now to say goodbye to a pretty girl. Only it was in the old station before this was built. We called it the depot. We knew we wouldn’t see each other again for almost a year. I thought I couldn’t live through it. She stood there crying – don’t even know where she lives now. Or if she is living. If she ever thinks of me she probably imagines I’m still dancing in the ballroom of the Amberson mansion. She probably thinks of the mansion as still beautiful. Still the finest house in town. Ah, life and money both behave like loose quicksilver in a nest of cracks. When they’re gone, you can’t tell where, or what the devil you did with them.”