Rules of Civility

by Amor Towles

Autumn in New York, Why does it seem so inviting? Autumn in New York, It spells the thrill of first-nighting. Written by a Belarusian immigrant named Vernon Duke, “Autumn in New York” practically debuted as a jazz standard.

Look up

Most people have more needs than wants. That’s why they live the lives they do. But the world is run by those whose wants outstrip their needs. I mulled this over for a moment. It led me to one conclusion: —You’re very good with the closing remark, Anne. —Yes, she said. It’s one of my specialties.

Anne

Because when some incident sheds a favorable light on an old and absent friend, that’s about as good a gift as chance intends to offer.

—If we only fell in love with people who were perfect for us, he said, then there wouldn’t be so much fuss about love in the first place.

In that sense, life is less like a journey than it is a game of honeymoon bridge. In our twenties, when there is still so much time ahead of us, time that seems ample for a hundred indecisions, for a hundred visions and revisions—we draw a card, and we must decide right then and there whether to keep that card and discard the next, or discard the first card and keep the second. And before we know it, the deck has been played out and the decisions we have just made will shape our lives for decades to come.