The mean reds.

'You know those days when you've got the mean reds?'

'Same as the blues?'

'No, the blues are because you're getting fat or maybe it's been raining too long. You're sad, that's all. But the mean reds are horrible. You're afraid and you sweat like hell, but you don't know what you're afraid of. Except something bad is going to happen, only you don't know what it is. You've had that feeling?'

'Quite often. Some people call it angst.'

'All right. Angst. But what do you do about it?

'Well, a drink helps.'

'I've tried that. I've tried aspirin too...What I've found does the most good is just to get into a taxi and go to Tiffany's. It calms me down right away, the quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there, not with those kind men in their nice suits, and that lovely smell of silver and alligator wallets. If I could find a real-life place that made me feel like Tiffany's, then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name.'

Breakfast at Tiffany's, Truman Capote.