F. Scott Fitzgerald Quotes
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Long ago, there was something in me, but now that thing is gone. Now that thing is gone, that thing is gone. I cannot cry. I cannot care. That thing will come back no more.
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It was a marriage of love. He was sufficiently spoiled to be charming; she was ingenuous enough to be irresistible. Like two floating logs they met in a head-on rush, caught, and sped along together.
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A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about.
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Modern life... changes no longer century by century, but year by year, ten times faster than it ever has before-populations doubling, civilizations unified more closely with other civilizations, economic interdependence, racial questions, and-we're dawdling along. My idea is that we've got to go very much faster.
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I began to realize that for two years my life had been a drawing on resources that I did not possess, that I had been mortgaging myself physically and spiritually up to the hilt.
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In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.
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He's a bootlegger....One time he killed a man who found out that he was nephew to Von Hindenburg and second cousin to the devil.
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...their eyes are full of kindness as each feels the full effect of novelty after a short separation. They are drawing a relaxation from each other's presence, a new serenity.
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Premature success gives one an almost mystical conception of destiny as opposed to will power-at its worst the Napoleonic delusion.
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Faint winds, and far away a fading laughter... And the rain and over the fields a voice calling...
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At fifteen you had the radiance of early morning, at twenty you will begin to have the melancholy brilliance of the moon.
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Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.
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A love affair is like a short story--it has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The beginning was easy, the middle might drag, invaded by commonplace, but the end, instead of being decisive and well knit with that element of revelatory surprise as a well-written story should be, it usually dissipated in a succession of messy and humiliating anticlimaxes.
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You are mysterious, I love you. You’re beautiful, intelligent, and virtuous, and that’s the rarest known combination.
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I didn't realize it, but the days came along one after another, and then two years were gone, and everything was gone, and I was gone.
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It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.
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I might have enjoyed the company of a woman or two... Or three but that had never stopped me from loving you.
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the cracked plate has to be retained in the pantry, has to be kept in service as a household necessity. It can never be warmed on the stove nor shuffled with the other plates in the dishpan; it will not be brought out for company but it will do to hold crackers late at night or to go into the ice-box with the left overs.
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You have a place in my heart no one else could have.
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Sometimes I wish I'd went through those good times stone cold sober so I could remember everything," he said, "but then again, if I had been sober the times probably wouldn't have been worth remembering.
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Rosemary felt that this swim would become the typical one of her life, the one that would always pop up in her memory at the mention of swimming.
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How the unforgettable faces of dusk would blend to her, the myriad footsteps, a thousand overtures, would blend to her footsteps; and there would be more drunkenness than wine in the softness of her eyes on his.
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He was going to live in New York, and be known at every restaurant and cafe, wearing a dress suit from early evening to early morning, sleeping away the dull hours of the forenoon.
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The failure and the success both believe in their hearts that they have accurately balanced points of view, the success because he's succeeded, and the failure because he's failed. The successful man tells his son to profit by his father's good fortune, and the failure tells his son to profit by his father's mistakes.