Quote

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 ---

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
Light
Faster
Matter
Green
Eluded
Years
Arms
Recedes
Fine
Gatsby
Morning
Morrow
Year
Farther
Future
Stretch
Running
Believed

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Amory wondered how people could fail to notice that he was a boy marked for glory, and when faces of the throng turned toward him and ambiguous eyes stared into his, he assumed the most romantic of expressions and walked on the air cushions that lie on the asphalts of fourteen.
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The helpless ecstasy of loosing himself in her charm was a powerful opiate rather than a tonic.
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There has never been an American tragedy. There have only been great failures.
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He dispensed starlight to casual moths.
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No such thing as a man willing to be honest - that would be like a blind man willing to see.
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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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To create souls in men, to create fine happiness and fine despair she must remain deeply proud - proud to be inviolate, proud also to be melting, to be passionate and possessed.
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he wanted people to like his mind again-after awhile it might be such a nice place in which to live.
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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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Their lips brushed like young wild flowers in the wind.
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So we'll just let things take their course, and never be sorry.
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All good writing is swimming under water and holding your breath.
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Very strong personalities must confine themselves in mutual conversation to very gentle subjects.
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Her body calculated to a millimeter to suggest a bud yet guarantee a flower.
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New friends can often have a better time together than old friends.
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Even when everything seems rotten you can't trust that judgment. It's the sum of all your judgments that counts.
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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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Beautiful things grow to a certain height and then they fail and fade off, breathing out memories as they decay.
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He was so terrible that he was no longer terrible, only dehumanized.
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Even when the east excited me most, even when I was keenly aware of its superiority to the broad, sprawling, swollen towns beyond the Ohio, with their interminable inquisitions which only spared children and the very old-even then it had always for me a quality of distortion.
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