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What do you think of that? It’s stopped raining. I’m glad Jay. Her throat, full of aching, grieving beauty, told only of her unexpected joy.
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
Glad
Rain
Joy
Aching
Told
Raining
Full
Grieving
Beauty
Throat
Think
Unexpected
Thinking
Stopped
More quotes by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Beware the artist who's an intellectual also. The artist who doesn't fit.
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Lie to me by the moonlight. Do a fabulous story.
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There was not a moving up into vacated places there was simply an anachronistic staying on between a vanishing past and an incalculable future.
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Those days are over. I have to be won all over again every time you see me.
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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.
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He had no plans, no definite intentions, except to kiss her lips again, to hold her in his arms.
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Conditions in the [movie] industry somehow propose the paradox: We brought you here for your individuality but while you're here we insist that you do everything to conceal it.
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They were smiling at each other as if this was the beginning of the world.
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To write it, it took three months to conceive it three minutes to collect the data in it all my life.
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Intelligence is a mere instrument of circumstances.
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Scratch a Yale man with both hands and you'll be lucky to find a coast-guard. Usually you find nothing at all.
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One girl can be pretty - but a dozen are only a chorus.
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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!
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The bar is in full swing, and floating rounds of cocktails permeate the garden outside, until the air is alivewith chatter and laughter, and casual innuendo and introductions forgotten on the spot, and enthusiastic meetings between women who never knew each other’s names.
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Great art is the contempt of a great man for small art.
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Experience is the name so many people give to their mistakes.
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The first lights of the evening were springing into pale existence. The Ferris wheel, pricked out now in lights, revolved leisurely through the dusk a few empty cars of the roller coaster rattled overhead.
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The water reached up for her, pulled her down tenderly out of the heat, seeped in her hair and ran into the corners of her body. She turned round and round in it, embracing it, wallowing in it.
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What'll we do with ourselves this afternoon,' cried Daisy, 'and the day after that, and the next thirty years?' 'Don't be morbid,' Jordan said. 'Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.' 'But it's so hot,' insisted Daisy, on the verge of tears, 'And everything's so confused. Let's all go to town!
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Your first most typical figure in any new place turns out to be a bluff or a local nuisance.
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