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...for a moment people set down their glasses in county clubs and speak-easies and thought of their old best dreams.
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
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St Paul
Minnesota
Francis Scott Fitzgerald
Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald
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The bar is in full swing, and floating rounds of cocktails permeate the garden outside, until the air is alivewith chatter and laughter, and casual innuendo and introductions forgotten on the spot, and enthusiastic meetings between women who never knew each other’s names.
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Conditions in the [movie] industry somehow propose the paradox: We brought you here for your individuality but while you're here we insist that you do everything to conceal it.
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He's sensitive and I don't want him to break his heart over somebody who doesn't care about him.
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Do you ever wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it!
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But I suppose you must touch life in order to spring from it.
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She confused him and hindered the flow of his ideas. Self-expression had never seemed at once so desirable and so impossible.
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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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Suddenly she realized that what she was regretting was not the lost past but the lost future, not what had not been but what would never be.
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Beware the artist who's an intellectual also. The artist who doesn't fit.
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We all must try to be good.
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When I see a beautiful shell like that I can't help feeling a regret about what's inside it.
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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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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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Her body calculated to a millimeter to suggest a bud yet guarantee a flower.
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No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.
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Human sympathy has its limits.
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