In crowded rooms they would form words with their lips for each other's eyes
You're not sorry to go, of course. With people like us our home is where we are not... No one person in the world is necessary to you or to me.
This is a valley of ashes--a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, wi...
Think how you love me,' she whispered. 'I don't ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember.'You'll always be like this to me.'Oh no; but promise me you'll remember.' Her tears were...
The helpless ecstasy of loosing himself in her charm was a powerful opiate rather than a tonic.
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.
Strange children should smile at each other and say, Let's play.
So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star.
It was the kind of voice that the ear follows up and down, as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again.
If it wasn’t for the mist we could see your home across the bay, said Gatsby. You always have a green light that burns at the end of your dock.Daisy put her arm through his abruptly but he seemed abso...
I'm a slave to my emotions, to my likes, to my hatred of boredom, to most of my desires.
I thought of Gatsby's wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy's dock. He had come a long way to this lawn and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail...
I shall go on shining as a brilliantly meaningless figure in a meaningless world.
I love New York on summer afternoons when everyone's away. There's something very sensuous about it - overripe, as if all sorts of funny fruits were going to fall into your hands.
I felt a haunting loneliness sometimes, and felt it in others--young clerks in the dusk, wasting the most poignant moments of night and life.
I am tired of knowing nothing and being reminded of it all the time.
His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy’s white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never...
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 e...
Clark, she said softly, I wouldn't change you for the world. You're sweet the way you are. The things that'll make you fail I'll love always-- the living in the past, the lazy days and nights you have...
Art isn't meaningless... It is in itself. It isn't in that it tries to make life less so.