This is all. It's been very rare to have known you, very strange and wonderful. But this wouldn't do - and wouldn't last.
There is no confusion like the confusion of a simple mind…
Then came the war, old sport. It was a great relief, and I tried very hard to die, but I seemed to bear an enchanted life.
The fire blazing in her dark and injured heart seemed to glow around her like a flame.
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 inexhausti...
She was dazzling-- alight; it was agony to comprehend her beauty in a glance.
Once in a while I go off on a spree and make a fool of myself, but I always come back, and in my heart I love her all the time.
I’m not sure what I’ll do, but— well, I want to go places and see people. I want my mind to grow. I want to live where things happen on a big scale.
It isn't given to us to know those rare moments when people are wide open and the lightest touch can wither or heal. A moment too late and we can never reach them any more in this world. They will not...
In the dead white hours in Zurich staring into a stranger's pantry across the upshine of a street-lamp, he used to think that he wanted to be good, he wanted to be kind, he wanted to be brave and wise...
If that was true he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high price for living too long with a single dream. He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leave...
I want to know you moved and breathed in the same world with me.
I may turn out an intellectual, but I'll never write anything but mediocre poetry.
Good manners are an admission that everybody is so tender that they have to be handled with gloves. Now, human respect—you don't call a man a coward or a liar lightly, but if you spend your life spari...
The cleverly expressed opposite of any generally accepted idea is worth a fortune to somebody.
Writers aren't exactly people, they're a bunch of people trying to be one person.
Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby's house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his...
She didn't like it," he said immediately."Of course she did.""She didn't like it," he insisted. "She didn't have a good time."He was silent and I guessed at his unutterable depression."I feel far away...
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.
When you're older you'll know what people who love suffer. The agony. It's better to be cold and young than to love. It's happened to me before but never like this - so accidental - just when everythi...