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And after reading Thoreau I felt how much I have lost by leaving nature out of my life.
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
Felt
Nature
Much
Life
Thoreau
Leaving
Reading
Lost
More quotes by F. Scott Fitzgerald
There's no beauty without poignancy and there's no poignancy without the feeling that it's going, men, names, books, houses--bound for dust--mortal--
F. Scott Fitzgerald
Selfish people are in a way terribly capable of great loves.
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But he hated to be sober. It made him conscious of the people around him, of that air of struggle, of greedy ambition, of hope more sordid than despair, of incessant passage up or down.
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When the lightning strikes one of us, it strikes both
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The mouth was wide open and ripped at the corners, as though she had choked a little in giving up the tremendous vitality she had stored so long.
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He was going to live in New York, and be known at every restaurant and café, wearing a dress suit from early evening to early morning, sleeping away the dull hours of the forenoon.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
Once we were one person, and always it will be a little that way.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
I just couldn't make the grade as a hack-that, like everything else, requires a certain practiced excellence.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
It appears that every man's insomnia is as different from his neighbours as are their daytime hopes and aspirations.
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I can’t tell you just how wonderful she is. I don’t want you to know. I don’t want any one to know.
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The rich are different from us.
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All things come to him who mates.
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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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The invitation to Miss Myra St. Claire's bobbing party spent the morning in his coat pocket, where it had an intense physical affair with a dusty piece of peanut brittle.
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I felt a haunting loneliness sometimes, and felt it in others--young clerks in the dusk, wasting the most poignant moments of night and life.
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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.
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But you can love more than just one person, can't you?
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You can’t repeat the past.” “Can’t repeat the past?” he cried incredulously. “Why of course you can!
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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
She was beautiful - but especially she was without mercy.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
