Quote

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.

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
Listen
Noon
Disintegrating
Sleep
Finite
Formulating
High
Immediate
Pines
Hours
Thin
Haze
Lost
Smell
Distances
Take
Distance
Sleeps
Time
Sun
Bath
World
Blue
Baths
Hardihood

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A southern moon is a sodden moon, and sultry. When it swamps the fields and the rustling sandy roads and the sticky honeysuckle hedges in its sweet stagnation, your fight to hold on to reality is like a protestation against a first waft of ether.
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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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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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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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[The Sun Also Rises is about] bullfighting, bullslinging and bullsh[*]t.
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“Everybody gives you belief for the asking,” she said to David, “and so few people give you anything more to believe in than your own belief—just not letting you down, that's all. It's so hard to find a person who accepts responsibilities beyond what you ask.' 'So easy to be loved - so hard to love.' David answered.
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Millie Beggs, by the time she was forty-five, had become an emotional anarchist.
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Youth doesn't need friends -- it only needs crowds.
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And only weaklings...who lack courage and the power to feel they're right when the whole world says they're wrong, ever lose.
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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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Oh, we are going to be so happy away from all the things that almost got us but couldn't quite because we were too smart for them!
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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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People are like almanacs, Bonnie - you never can find the information you're looking for, but the casual reading is well worth the trouble.
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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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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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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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Death is the only real elegance.
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Oh, the secret life of man and woman--dreaming how much better we would be than we are if we were somebody else or even ourselves, and feeling that our estate has been unexploited to its fullest.
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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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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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