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The lights grow brighter as the earth lurches away from the sun.
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
Away
Light
Earth
Brighter
Lights
Sun
Grow
Grows
More quotes by F. Scott Fitzgerald
You are mine-you know you're mine! he cried wildly...the moonlight twisted in through the vines and listened...the fireflies hung upon their whispers as if to win his glance from the glory of their eyes.
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It's a great advantage not to drink among hard-drinking people. You can hold your tongue, and, moreover, you can time any little irregularity of your own so that everybody else is so blind that they don't see or care.
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I may turn out an intellectual, but I'll never write anything but mediocre poetry.
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Every act of life, from the morning toothbrush to the friend at dinner, became an effort. I hated the night when I couldn't sleep and I hated the day because it went toward night.
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But I always felt that I'd rather be provincial hot-tamale than soup without seasoning.
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Beware the artist who's an intellectual also. The artist who doesn't fit.
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I want to do everything in the world with you.
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The notion of sitting down and conjuring up, not only words in which to clothe thoughts but thoughts worthy of being clothed--the whole thing was absurdly beyond his desires.
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The idea that to make a man work you've got to hold gold in front of his eyes is a growth, not an axiom. We've done that for so long that we've forgotten there's any other way.
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The victor belongs to the spoils.
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I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested, and I snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth.
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that voice was a deathless song.
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The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain.
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Human sympathy has its limits.
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Amory: I love you. Rosalind: I love you- now.
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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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Here's to alcohol, the rose colored glasses of life.
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Experience is the name so many people give to their mistakes.
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So they were desperately in love and being desperately in love involves a desperate existence.
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Speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again.
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