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I'm not much like myself any more.

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
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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.
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Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope.
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The hangover became a part of the day as well allowed-for as the Spanish siesta.
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Stahr's eyes and Kathleen's met and tangled. For an instant they made love as no one ever dares to do after. Their glance was slower than an embrace, more urgent than a call.
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Debut: the first time a young girl is seen drunk in public.
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The transition from libertine to prig was so complete.
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No one should live beyond 30.
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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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You're a slave, a bound helpless slave to one thing in the world, your imagination.
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Of the things they possessed in common, greatest of all was their almost uncanny pull at each others hearts.
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the intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions.
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but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seeking, a little wistfully, for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game
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She smiled at him, making sure that the smile gathered up everything inside her and directed it toward him, making him a profound promise of herself for so little, for the beat of a response, the assurance of a complimentary vibration in him.
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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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She was feeling the pressure of the world outside and she wanted to see him and feel his presence beside her and be reassured that she was doing the right thing after all.
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A sense of the fundamental decencies is parceled out unequally at birth.
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They were stars on this stage, each playing to an audience of two: the passion of their pretense created the actuality. Here, finally, was the quintessence of self-expression-- yet it was probable that for the most part their love expressed Gloria rather than Anthony. He felt often like a scarecly tolerated guest at a party she was giving.
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You've got an awfully kissable mouth.
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Actually that’s my secret — I can’t even talk about you to anybody because I don’t want any more people to know how wonderful you are.
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Begin with an individual, and before you know it you find that you have created a type begin with a type, and you find that you have created - nothing.
F. Scott Fitzgerald