Quote

I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything.

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
World
Everything
Suspicion
Self
Sincerity
Whole
Fell
Even
Wild
Believe
Beginning
Suspicions
Things
Courage
Indulged
Love
Respect
Flaming
Life
Wasn
Pregnancy

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The ability to hold two competing thoughts in one's mind and still be able to function is the mark of a superior mind
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I don't like girls in the daytime,' he said shortly, and then thinking this a bit abrupt, he added: 'But I like you.' He cleared his throat. 'I like you first and second and third.
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Daisy began to sing with the music in a husky, rhythmic whisper, bringing out a meaning in each word that it had never had before and would never have again. When the melody rose, her voice broke up sweetly, following it, in a way contralto voices have, and each change tipped out a little of her warm human magic upon the air.
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That's the whole burden of this novel - the loss of those illusions that give such color to the world that you don't care whether things are true or false as long as they partake of the magical glory.
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Her body calculated to a millimeter to suggest a bud yet guarantee a flower.
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Books are like brothers. I am an only child. Gatsby [is] my imaginary eldest brother.
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What'll we do with ourselves this afternoon? And the day after that, and the next thirty years?
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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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I am too much a moralist at heart, and really want to preach at people in some acceptable form, rather than entertain them.
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So when the blue smoke of brittle leaves was in the air and the wind blew the wet laundry stiff on the line I decided to come back home.
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There are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice.
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France was a land, England was a people, but America, having about it still that quality of the idea, was harder to utter - it was the graves at Shiloh and the tired, drawn, nervous faces of its great men, and the country boys dying in the Argonne for a phrase that was empty before their bodies withered. It was a willingness of the heart.
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My God,' he gasped, 'you're fun to kiss.
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I like France, where everybody thinks he's Napoleon--down here everybody thinks he's Christ.
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Baltimore is warm but pleasant... I belong here, where everything is civilized and gay and rotted and polite.
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People living alone get used to loneliness.
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You are mysterious, I love you. You’re beautiful, intelligent, and virtuous, and that’s the rarest known combination.
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Life is so damned hard, so damned hard... It just hurts people and hurts people, until finally it hurts them so that they can't be hurt ever any more. That's the last and worst thing it does.
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I want to just be lazy and I want some of the people around me to be doing things, because that makes me feel comfortable and safe - and I want some of them to be doing nothing at all, because they can be graceful and companionable for me.
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The truth was that Jay Gatsby, of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic conception of himself. He was a son of God—a phrase which, if it means anything, means just that—and he must be about His Father’s Business, the service of a vast, vulgar and meretricious beauty.
F. Scott Fitzgerald