F. Scott Fitzgerald
F. Scott Fitzgerald
Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald, known professionally as F. Scott Fitzgerald, was an American novelist and short story writer, whose works are the paradigmatic writings of the Jazz Age. He is widely regarded as one of the greatest American writers of the 20th century. Fitzgerald is considered a member of the "Lost Generation" of the 1920s. He finished four novels: This Side of Paradise, The Beautiful and Damned, The Great Gatsby, and Tender Is the Night. A fifth, unfinished novel, The...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth24 September 1896
CitySaint Paul, MN
CountryUnited States of America
When I see a beautiful shell like that I can't help feeling a regret about what's inside it.
For years afterwards when Amory thought of Eleanor he seemed still to hear the wind sobbing around him and sending little chills into the places beside his heart. The night when they rode up the slope and watched the cold moon float through the clouds, he lost a further part of him that nothing could restore; and when he lost it he lost also the power of regretting it.
Suddenly she realized that what she was regretting was not the lost past but the lost future, not what had not been but what would never be.
For a moment the last sunshine fell with romantic affection upon her glowing face; her voice compelled me forward breathlessly as I listened - then the glow faded, each light deserting her with lingering regret, like children leaving a pleasant street at dusk.
No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man can store up in his ghosty heart.
I had taken two finger-bowls of champagne, and the scene had changed before my eyes into something significant, elemental, and profound.
The Middle West now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe
They were careless people, Tom and Daisy they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made
Writers aren't exactly people...they're a whole lot of people trying to be one person.
Either you think or else others have to think for you and take power from you.
Nick, on the Buchanans: ""They were careless people, Tom and Daisy -- they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made
Daisy, gleaming like silver, safe and proud above the hot struggles of the poor
Theyre a rotten crowd, I shouted across the lawn. Youre worth the whole damn bunch put together.'
Always willing to lend a helping hand to the one above him.