Quotes About Fitzgerald

It was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again

He has waited five years and bought a mansion where he dispensed starlight to casual moths

I hope something happens. I'm restless as the devil and have a horror of getting fat or falling in love and growing domestic.

She's got an indiscreet voice," I remarked. "It's full of–" I hesitated. "Her voice is full of money," he said suddenly. That was it. I'd never understood before. It was full of money–that was the inexhaustible charm that rose and fell in it, the jingle of it, the cymbals' song of it.

Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.

The unwelcome November rain had perversely stolen the day's last hour and pawned it with that ancient fence, the night.

The best of America drifts to Paris. The American in Paris is the best American. It is more fun for an intelligent person to live in an intelligent country. France has the only two things toward which we drift as we grow older—intelligence and good manners.

The helpless ecstasy of loosing himself in her charm was a powerful opiate rather than a tonic.

my imagination persisted in sticking horrors into the dark- so I stuck my imagination into the dark instead, and let it look out at me.

There was a kindliness about intoxication - there was that indescribable gloss and glamour it gave, like the memories of ephemeral and faded evenings.

When we pulled out into the winter night and the real snow, our snow, began to stretch out beside us and twinkle against the windows, and the dim lights of small Wisconsin stations moved by, a sharp wild brace came suddenly into the air. That's my middle-west - not the wheat or the prairies or the lost Swede towns, but the thrilling returning trains of my youth and the street lamps and sleigh bells in the frosty dark and the shadows of holly wreaths thrown by lighted windows on the snow.

They're a rotten lot, I shouted, across the lawn. You're worth the whole damn bunch put together.

First, he realized that the sea was blue and that there was an enormous quantity of it, and that it roared and roared-really all the banalities about the ocean that one could realize, but if any one had told him then that these things were banalities, he would have gaped in wonder.

France was a land, England was a people, but America, having about it still that quality of the idea, was harder to utter - it was the graves at Shiloh and the tired, drawn, nervous faces of its great men, and the country boys dying in the Argonne for a phrase that was empty before their bodies withered. It was a willingness of the heart.

I avoided writers very carefully because they can perpetuate trouble as no one else can.

sometimes i wish i'd been an englishman; american life is so damned dumb and stupid and healthy

I am too much a moralist at heart, and really want to preach at people in some acceptable form, rather than entertain them.

It was testimony to the romantic speculation he inspired that there were whispers about him from those who had found little that it was necessary to whisper about in this world.

It is not necessarily poverty of spirit that makes a woman surround herself with life—it can be a superabundance of interest...

Over the great bridge, with the sunlight through the girders making a constant flicker upon the moving cars, with the city rising up across the river in white heaps and sugar lumps all built with a wish out of non-olfactory money. The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the mystery and the beauty in the world.

Rather nice night, after all. Stars are out and everything. Exceptionally tasty assortment of them.

but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering.

Open the whisky, Tom,' she ordered, 'and I'll make you a mint julep. Then you won't seem so stupid to yourself... Look at the mint!

Baltimore is warm but pleasant... I belong here, where everything is civilized and gay and rotted and polite.