“We went to Cafe Gala on the Strip. My farewell visit to the End of the Night. I haven’t been been to a place of this sort in ages, and it was so nostalgically reminiscent of all the other times — the baroque decorations and the cozy red velvet corners, the sharp-faced peroxide pianist with tender memories and a tongue like an adder, the grizzled tomcat tenor, the bitch with a heart of gold, the lame celebrity, the bar mimosa, the public lovers, the amazed millionaire tourist, the garlanded cow, the plumed serpent and the daydream sailor … I have loved them all very much and learnt something from each of them. I owe them many of my vividest moments of awareness. But enough is enough. And here we say goodbye.”

— Christopher Isherwood, writing in his diary on Feb. 3, 1943, after a visit to Cafe Gala, 1114 Horn Ave. [map] the eve of entering a Vedanta monastery on Ivar Avenue. (Diaries 1:265-66)