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I believed I was a salamander, and it seems I am nothing but an impediment.

Zelda Fitzgerald

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Zelda Fitzgerald
Age: 47 †
Born: 1900
Born: July 24
Died: 1948
Died: March 10
Artist
Autobiographer
Dancer
Journalist
Novelist
Painter
Poet
Socialite
Writer
Montgomery
Alabama
Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald
Zelda Sayre
Impediment
Impediments
Believed
Seems
Nothing
Salamander
Salamanders

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Life has puffed and blown itself into a summer day, and clouds and spring billow over the heavens as if calendars were a listing of mathematical errors.
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isn't it funny how danger makes people passionate?
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Love is bitter and all there is, and that the rest is for the emotional beggars of the earth.
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Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.
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Nothing annoys me more than having the most trivial action analyzed and explained.
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without you, dearest dearest I couldn't see or hear or feel or think - or live - I love you so and I'm never in all our lives going to let us be apart another night.
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And, Joey, if you ever want to know about the japonicas and the daisy fields it will be alright that you have forgotten because I will be able to tell you about how it felt to be feeling that way you cannot quite remember – that will be for the time when something happens years from now that reminds you of now.
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I wish I could write a beautiful book to break those hearts that are soon to cease to exist: a book of faith and small neat worlds and of people who live by the philosophies of popular songs.
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Looking for love is like asking for a new point of departure ... another chance in life.
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She felt the essence of herself pulled finer and smaller like those streams of spun glass that pull and stretch till there remains but a glimmering illusion. Neither falling nor breaking, the stream spins finer. She felt herself very small and ecstatic. Alabama was in love.
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We get something to do and as soon as we've got it, it gets us.
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Look closer and you'll see something extraordinary, mystifying, something real and true. We have never been what we seemed.
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She quietly expected great things to happen to her, and no doubt that’s one of the reasons why they did.
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I take a sun bath and listen to the hours, formulating, and disintegrating under the pines, and smell the resiny hardihood of the high noon hours. The world is lost in a blue haze of distances, and the immediate sleeps in a thin and finite sun.
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It seems to me that on one page I recognized a portion of an old diary of mine which mysteriously disappeared shortly after my marriage, and, also, scraps of letters which, though considerably edited, sound to me vaguely familiar. In fact, Mr. Fitzgerald (I believe that is how he spells his name) seems to believe that plagiarism begins at home.
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Women sometimes seem to share a quiet, unalterable dogma of persecution that endows even the most sophisticated of them with the inarticulate poignancy of the peasant.
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Pronunciation has made many an innocent word sound like a doctor's orders for a stomach pump.
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