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Personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

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F. Scott Fitzgerald
Age: 43 †
Born: 1897
Born: September 24
Died: 1940
Died: December 21
Author
Novelist
Screenwriter
Short Story Writer
Writer
St Paul
Minnesota
Francis Scott Fitzgerald
Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald
Unbroken
Gestures
Series
Personality
Successful

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Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter - to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther ... And one fine morning ---
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The best of America drifts to Paris. The American in Paris is the best American.
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Amory thought how it was only the past that seemed strange and unbelievable.
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Was it the infinite sadness of her eyes that drew him or the mirror of himself that he found in the gorgeous clarity of her mind?
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If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that registered earthquakes ten thousand miles away.
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Learn young about hard work and manners - and you'll be through the whole dirty mess and nicely dead again before you know it.
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I don’t want just words. If that’s all you have for me, you’d better go
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I think they're very attractive,' Abe agreed. 'I just don't think they're attractive, that's all.
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Kiss me now, love me now.
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No, interrupted Marcia emphatically. And you're a sweet boy. Come here and kiss me. Horace stopped quickly in front of her. Why do you want me to kiss you? he asked intently. Do you just go round kissing people? Why, yes, admitted Marcia, unruffled. 'At's all life is. Just going around kissing people.
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Later she remembered all the hours of the afternoon as happy -- one of those uneventful times that seem at the moment only a link between past and future pleasure, but turn out to have been the pleasure itself.
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This is what I think now: that the natural state of the sentient adult is a qualified unhappiness.
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I began to like New York, the racy, adventurous feel of it at night, and the satisfaction that the constant flicker of men and women and machines gives to the restless eye.
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I was too absorbed to be responsive
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The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain.
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The victor belongs to the spoils.
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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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In the morning you were never violently sorry-- you made no resolutions, but if you had overdone it and your heart was slightly out of order, you went on the wagon for a few days without saying anything about it, and waited until an accumulation of nervous boredom projected you into another party.
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he used to think that he wanted to be good, he wanted to be kind, he wanted to be brave and wise, but it was all pretty difficult. He wanted to be loved, too, if he could fit it in.
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I found something! Courage--just that courage as a rule of life and something to cling to always.
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