Quote

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.

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
Life
Blown
Heavens
Mathematical
Errors
Clouds
Billow
Summer
Listing
Spring
Puffed
Heaven
Calendars

More quotes by Zelda Fitzgerald

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It's terrible to allow conventional habits to gain a hold on a whole household to eat, sleep and live by clock ticks.
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Other people's ideas of us are dependent largely on what they've hoped for.
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Emptying the ashtrays was very expressive of myself. i just lump everything in a great heap which i have labeled ‘the past,’ and having thus emptied this deep reservoir that was once myself, i am ready to continue.
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Death is the only real elegance.
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They hadn't much faith in travel, nor a great belief in a change of scene as a panacea for spiritual ills they were simply glad to be going.
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Most people hew the battlements of life from compromise, erecting their impregnable keeps from judicious submissions, fabricating their philosophical drawbridges from emotional retractions and scalding marauders in the boiling oil of sour grapes.
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Spinach and champagne. Going back to the kitchens at the old Waldorf. Dancing on the kitchen tables, wearing the chef's headgear. Finally, a crash and being escorted out by the house detectives.
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I am really only myself when I'm somebody else whom I have endowed with these wonderful qualities from my imagination.
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It is the loose ends with which men hang themselves.
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Being in love, she concluded, is simply a presentation of our pasts to another individual, mostly packages so unwieldy that we can no longer manage the loosened strings alone.
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I love you, even if there isn’t any me, or any love, or even any life. I love you.
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Millie Beggs, by the time she was forty-five, had become an emotional anarchist.
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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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I believed I was a salamander, and it seems I am nothing but an impediment.
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Nobody has ever been able to experience what they have thoroughly understood - or understand what they have experienced until they have achieved a detachment that renders them incapable of repeating the experience.
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Don't you think I was made for you? I feel like you had me ordered - and I was delivered to you - to be worn. I want you to wear me, like a watch-charm or a buttonhole bouquet.
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I suppose all we can really share with people is a taste for the same kinds of weather.
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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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memories should be sharp when one has nothing else to live for
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