For a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Profession: Author
Nationality: American

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After all, in the very casualness of Gatsby's party there were romantic possibilities totally absent from her world.

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. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her.

Trouble has no necessary connection with discouragement. Discouragement has a germ of its own, as different from trouble as arthritis is different from a stiff joint.

We shook hands and I started away. Just before I reached the hedge I remembered something and turned around. ‘They're a rotten crowd,' I shouted across the lawn. ‘You're worth the whole damn bunch put together.' I've always been glad I said that. It was the only compliment I ever gave him, because I disapproved of him from beginning to end.

No one person in the world is necessary to you or to me.

I want excitement; and I don't care what form it takes or what I pay for it, so long as it makes my heart beat.

Given a decent start any girl can beat a man nowadays.

Aristocracy's only an admission that certain traits which we call fine - courage and honor and beauty and all that sort of thing - can best be developed in a favorable environment, where you don't have the warpings of ignorance and necessity.

In his moments of insecurity he was haunted by the suggestion that life might be, after all, significant.

But this can't be true! I can understand, of course, their obedience to women of charm—but to fat women? To bony women? To women with scrawny cheeks?

He was intensely ritualistic, startlingly dramatic, loved the idea of God enough to be a celibate, and rather liked his neighbour.

Wilson shook his head. His eyes narrowed and his mouth widened slightly with the ghost of a superior ‘Hm!'.

Receding from a grief, it seems necessary to retrace the same steps that brought us there.

You intoxicated me. It was just as though you were making me love you by some invisible force.