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Quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald

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The Great Gatsby

F. Scott Fitzgerald's 'The Great Gatsby' is a timeless narrative that delves into the lives of the wealthy elite during the 1920s. The story follows Jay Gatsby, a mysterious millionaire, and his pursuit of the elusive Daisy Buchanan, a woman from his past. The novel is renowned for its vivid portrayal of the era's excesses and the disillusionment that followed, offering a critical commentary on the American Dream. more

Author

F. Scott Fitzgerald
F. Scott Fitzgerald

F. Scott Fitzgerald was an American author of novels and short stories, renowned for his works that encapsulate the Jazz Age and the Roaring Twenties. His most celebrated novel, 'The Great Gatsby,' is a critical and commercial success, reflecting the themes of the American Dream and the decline of the American upper class. more

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“We laid in that artillery crater until dusk and prayed for a miracle: an asteroid, an airline employee strike, a follow-up artillery shell, a plague, nuclear holocaust, paralysis, anything to prevent us from getting up, from separation--first her head from my chest, then my hand from her hand, then her flight from my flight, and then my plans from us and her plans from us, and then her thoughts of us and my thoughts of us, and then her smell from my sheet and my smell from her shirt, and then . . . as the sun drifted into oblivion, forever erasing our now orange horizon, in a last desperate attempt, against a purple sky, she gave in to the absurd: "We could just remain." All I did was shrug.”

“[To speak more particularly at last of lovers] their situation allowed them to consider their feelings with a sort of feverish objectivity, at it was rare, at such times, for them not to see their own shortcomings clearly. The first occasion of this was the difficulty they had in imagining precisely the absent person's actions and gestures. They deplored the fact that they knew nothing about how their loved ones spent their time; they felt guilty about their past failure to find this out and about having pretended to believe that, for a person in love, the beloved's actions are not the source of every joy. From then on it was easy for them to go back through the story of their love and to examine its imperfections. In normal times we are aware, consciously or not, that there is no love that cannot be surpassed, yet we accept with a greater or lesser degree of equanimity that ours shall remain merely average. But memory is more demanding.”