F. Scott Fitzgerald Quotes - Page 2

a promise that the rock of the world was founded securely on a fairy's wing

Tired, tired with nothing, tired with everything, tired with the world’s weight he had never chosen to bear.

I love her, and that's the beginning and end of everything.

Ah," she cried, "you look so cool."

Their eyes met, and they stared together at each other, alone in space. With an effort she glanced down at the table.

You always look so cool," she repeated.

She had told him that she loved him, and Tom Buchanan saw.

You know I'm old in some ways-in others-well, I'm just a little girl. I like sunshine and pretty things and cheerfulness-and I dread responsibility.

Think how you love me," she whispered. "I don’t ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside me there’ll always be the person I am to-night.

I’ve been drunk for about a week now, and I thought it might sober me up to sit in a library.

Every one suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and this is mine: I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known.

The kiss originated when the first male reptile licked the first female reptile, implying in a subtle way that she was as succulent as the small reptile he had for dinner the night before.

It was always the becoming he dreamed of, never the being.

If you spend your life sparing people’s feelings and feeding their vanity, you get so you can’t distinguish what should be respected in them.

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

I learned a little of beauty- enough to know that it had nothing to do with truth...

I learned a little of beauty - enough to know that it had nothing to do with truth - and I found, moreover, that there was no great literary tradition; there was only the tradition of the eventful death of every literary tradition.

I was within and without. Simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.

Life is much more successfully looked at from a single window.

That’s going to be your trouble - judgment about yourself.
(Tender is the Night)

Later she remembered all the hours of the afternoon as happy - one of those uneventful times that seem at the moment only a link between past and future pleasure, but turn out to have been the pleasure itself.

Was it the infinite sadness of her eyes that drew him or the mirror of himself that he found in the gorgeous clarity of her mind?

I think he revalued everything in his house according to the measure of response it drew from her well-loved eyes.