|
a3fe2e9
|
All she wanted was to be a little girl, to be efficiently taken care of by some yielding yet superior power, stupider and steadier than herself. It seemed that the only lover she had ever wanted was a lover in a dream
|
|
dream
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
3e29491
|
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.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
26656b1
|
Things to worry about: Worry about courage Worry about cleanliness Worry about efficiency Worry about horsemanship Things not to worry about: Don't worry about popular opinion Don't worry about dolls Don't worry about the past Don't worry about the future Don't worry about growing up Don't worry about anybody getting ahead of you Don't worry about triumph Don't worry about failure unless it comes through your own fault Don't worry about mos..
|
|
letter
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald (letter to his daughter) |
|
670be17
|
Experience is not worth the getting. It's not a thing that happens pleasantly to a passive you--it's a wall that an active you runs up against.
|
|
passive
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
b1f86dd
|
I simply state that I'm a product of a versatile mind in a restless generation-with every reason to throw my mind and pen in with the radicals. Even if, deep in my heart, I thought we were all blind atoms in a world as limited as a stroke of a pendulum, I and my sort would struggle against tradition; try, at least, to displace old cants with new ones. I've thought I was right about life at various times, but faith is difficult. One thing I ..
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
eb8bbe3
|
He's sensitive and I don't want him to break his heart over somebody who doesn't care about him.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
d280b22
|
Many nights he lay there dreaming awake of secret cafes in Mont Marte, where ivory women delved in romantic mysteries with diplomats and soldiers of fortune, while orchestras played Hungarian waltzes and the air was thick and exotic with intrigue and moonlight and adventure.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
353d8cc
|
You're just the romantic age," she continued- "fifty. Twenty-five is too worldly wise; thirty is apt to be pale from overwork; forty is the age of long stories that take a whole cigar to tell; sixty is- oh, sixty is too near seventy; but fifty is the mellow age. I love fifty." - Hildegarde"
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
5352052
|
It isn't given to us to know those rare moments when people are wide open and the lightest touch can wither or heal. A moment too late and we can never reach them any more in this world. They will not be cured by our most efficacious drugs or slain with our sharpest swords.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
109775e
|
You've got an awfully kissable mouth.
|
|
kissing
kiss
relationships
romance
humor
love
kissing-quotes
flapper
lust
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
23e2c29
|
Sometimes it is harder to deprive oneself of a pain than of a pleasure and the memory so possessed him that for the moment there was nothing to do but to pretend.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
41d7a4e
|
But I suppose you must touch life in order to spring from it.
|
|
inspiration
birth-of-ideas
contrast
feel-inspired
get-ideas
get-inspired
where-ideas-come-from
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
7f6eb15
|
You said a bad driver was only safe until she met another bad driver? Well, I met another bad driver, didn't I? I mean it was careless of me to makes such a wrong guess. I thought you were rather an honest, straightforward person I thought it was your secret pride." "I'm thirty," I said. "I'm five years too old to lie to myself and call it honor." She didn't answer. Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away."
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
78a1e14
|
Everybody's youth is a dream, a form of chemical madness.' 'How pleasant then to be insane!
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
7cd3b0e
|
Life plays the same lovely and agonizing joke on all of us.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
f10f045
|
Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalks really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees--he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder. His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy's white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her peri..
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
c9fed27
|
Men don't often know those times when a girl could be had for nothing.
|
|
men
love
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
47cd4b0
|
So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
abaef14
|
the best contacts are when one knows the obstacles and still wants to preserve a relation.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
8cd955b
|
Under the stars,' she repeated. 'I never noticed the stars before. I always thought of them as great big diamonds that belonged to someone. Now they frighten me. They make me feel that it was all a dream, all my youth.' It was a dream,' said John quietly. 'Everybody's youth is a dream, a form of chemical madness.' How pleasant then to be insane!' So I'm told,' said John gloomily. 'I don't know any longer. At any rate, let us love for a whil..
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
3a5aef1
|
Clark," she said softly, "I wouldn't change you for the world. You're sweet the way you are. The things that'll make you fail I'll love always-- the living in the past, the lazy days and nights you have, and all your carelessness and generosity."
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
de1047a
|
Intelligence is a mere instrument of circumstances.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
e14b1db
|
I hate dainty minds,' answered Marjorie. 'But a girl has to be dainty in person. If she looks like a million dollars she can talk about Russia, ping-pong, or the League of Nations and get away with it.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
3e1fe7f
|
There are open wounds, shrunk sometimes to the size of a pin-prick but wounds still.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
9b973b8
|
I must hold in balance the sense of the futility of effort and the sense of the necessity to struggle; the conviction of the inevitability of failure and still the determination to 'succeed'-and, more than these, the contradiction between the dead hand of the past and the high intentions of the future. If I could do this through the common ills-domestic, professional and personal-then the ego would continue as an arrow shot from nothingness..
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
c9ab1c9
|
then, as though it had been waiting on a near by roof for their arrival, the moon came slanting suddenly through the vines and turned the girl's face the color of white roses.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
a3e5b0d
|
Beauty and love pass, I know... Oh, there's sadness, too. I suppose all great happiness is a little sad. Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses-
|
|
death
sadness
happiness
roses
fitzgerald
rose
|
F Scott Fitzgerald |
|
2410201
|
There was no God in his heart, he knew; his ideas were still in riot; there was ever the pain of memory; the regret for his lost youth-yet the waters of disillusion had left a deposit on his soul, responsibility and a love of life, the faint stirring of old ambitions and unrealized dreams...... And he could not tell why the struggle was worth while, why he had determined to use to the utmost himself and his heritage from the personalities h..
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
091595e
|
Then wear the gold hat, if that will move her; If you can bounce high, bounce for her too, Till she cry "Lover, gold-hatted, high-bouncing lover, I must have you!"
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
94a84b2
|
For the first time in years the tears were streaming down his face. But they were for himself now. He did not care about mouth and eyes and moving hands. He wanted to care, and he could not care. For he had gone away and he could never go back any more. The gates were closed, the sun was gone down, and there was no beauty but the gray beauty of steel that withstands all time. Even the grief he could have borne was left behind in the country..
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
0b0b169
|
At fifteen you had the radiance of early morning, at twenty you will begin to have the melancholy brilliance of the moon, and when you are my age you will give out, as I do, the genial golden warmth of 4 p.m.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
3cbd072
|
I suppose books mean more than people to me anyway
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
4b8736a
|
Of course all life is a process of breaking down, but the blows that do the dramatic side of the work-the big sudden blows that come, or seem to come, from outside-the ones you remember and blame things on and, in moments of weakness, tell your friends about, don't show their effect all at once. There is another sort of blow that comes from within-that you don't feel until it's too late to do anything about it, until you realize with finali..
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
3179f24
|
The helpless ecstasy of loosing himself in her charm was a powerful opiate rather than a tonic.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
269bf1a
|
The strongest guard is placed at the gateway to nothing. Maybe because the condition of emptiness is too shameful to be divulged.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
aab76af
|
In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
6347ad3
|
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.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
18be665
|
Don't be so anxious about it,' she laughed. 'I'm not used to being loved. I wouldn't know what to do; I never got the trick of it.' She looked down at him, shy and fatigued. 'So here we are. I told you years ago that I had the makings of Cinderella.' He took her hand; she drew it back instinctively and then replaced it in his. 'Beg your pardon. Not even used to being touched. But I'm not afraid of you, if you stay quiet and don't move sudde..
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
1b99912
|
Through all he said, even through his appalling sentimentality, I was reminded of something-an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that I heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man's, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound and what I had almost remembered was uncommunicable forever.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
f9a8fee
|
I like France, where everybody thinks he's Napoleon--down here everybody thinks he's Christ.
|
|
rome
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
2c13e7d
|
If he had to bring all the bitterness and hatred of the world into his heart, he was not going to be in love with her again.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
0be0324
|
The voice fell low, sank into her breast and stretched the tight bodice over her heart as she came up close. He felt the young lips, her body sighing in relief against the arm growing stronger to hold her. There were now no more plans than if Dick had arbitrarily made some indissoluble mixture, with atoms joined and inseparable; you could throw it all out but never again could they fit back into atomic scale. As he held her and tasted her, ..
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
4eb2f32
|
one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-climax.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
|
de0a409
|
A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about.
|
|
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |