He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it.
Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.
What was it up there in the song that seemed to be calling her back inside? What would happen now in the dim, incalculable hours?
A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up towards the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling, and then rippled over the wine-coloured rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea.
I hope she'll be a fool -- that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.
So we beat on, boats agains the current. Borne back ceaselessly into the past.
Benny McClenahan arrived always with four girls. They were never quite the same ones in physical person but they were so identical one with another that it inevitably seemed they had been there before. I have forgotten their names - Jaqueline, I think, or else Consuela or Gloria or Judy or June, and their last names were either the melodious names of flowers and months or the sterner ones of the great American capitalists whose cousins, if pressed, they would confess themselves to be.
If that was true he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high price for living too long with a single dream.
Then came the war, old sport. It was a great relief, and I tried very hard to die, but I seemed to bear an enchanted life.
He had seen me several times, and had intended to call on me long before, but a peculiar combination of circumstances had prevented it.
Little Montenegro! He lifted up the words and nodded at them-with his smile. The smile comprehended Montenegro's troubled history and sympathized with the brave struggles of the Montenegrin people. It appreciated fully the chain of national circumstances, which had elicited this tribute from Montenegro's warm little heart. My incredulity was submerged in fascination now; it was like skimming hastily through a dozen magazines.
What was the use of doing great things if I could have a better time telling her what I was going to do?
A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about.
I love New York on summer afternoons when everyone's away. There's something very sensuous about it - overripe, as if all sorts of funny fruits were going to fall into your hands.
So we drove on toward death through the cooling twilight.
Can't repeat the past?…Why of course you can!
I'm glad it's a girl. And I hope she'll be a fool - that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful fool
Then it had not been merely the stars to which he had aspired on that June night. He came alive to me, delivered suddenly from the womb of his purposeless splendour.
He hadn't once ceased looking at Daisy, and I think he revalued everything in his house according to the measure of response it drew from her well-loved eyes. Sometimes, too, he stared around at his possessions in a dazed way, as though in her actual and astounding presence none of it was any longer real.
Most affectations conceal something eventually, even though they don't in the beginning.
When we pulled out into the winter night and the real snow, our snow, began to stretch out beside us and twinkle against the windows, and the dim lights of small Wisconsin stations moved by, a sharp wild brace came suddenly into the air. That's my middle-west - not the wheat or the prairies or the lost Swede towns, but the thrilling returning trains of my youth and the street lamps and sleigh bells in the frosty dark and the shadows of holly wreaths thrown by lighted windows on the snow.
A stirring warmth flowed from her, as if her heart was trying to come out to you concealed in one of those breathless, thrilling words.
I noticed that she wore her evening dress, all her dresses, like sports clothes-there was a jauntiness about her movements as if she had first learned to walk upon a golf course on clean, crisp, mornings.
So when the blue smoke of brittle leaves was in the air and the wind blew the wet laundry stiff on the line I decided to come back home.
Do you ever wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it!
In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.
There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.
He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God.
Once in a while I go off on a spree and make a fool of myself, but I always come back, and in my heart I love her all the time. - The Great Gatsby.
Wilson's glazed eyes turned out to the ashheaps, where small gray clouds took on fantastic shape and scurried here and there in the faint dawn wind.
More F. Scott Fitzgerald Quotations (Based on Topics)
World - Life - Man - People - Love - Mind - Youth - Sadness - Abilities - Movies - Past - Water - Emotions - Fool - Respect - God - Business & Commerce - Defeats - Idea - View All F. Scott Fitzgerald Quotations
More F. Scott Fitzgerald Quotations (By Book Titles)
- Tender is the Night
- The Great Gatsby
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