The music took the old sweet melodies and twisted them like hairpins.
It was right in the groove that Hollywood had been geared for, slick, swift and clever. What Kit calls the Golden Rut.
...if he don't like the fifty bucks, he can crap in his hat, pull it over his head and call it curls.
'He ran around behind the bleachers so he should beat the camera,' Mrs. Glickstein explained.
from Schulberg's Afterword, about the uproar the book caused in the industry, BS's father to Louis Mayer: "For Christ's sake, Louie, he's the only novelist who ever came from Hollywood. Where the hell are you going to deport him, Catalina Island?"
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