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Jazz Age Quotes

Browse 26 quotes about Jazz Age.

Jazz Age Quotes

“We are drawn to the Renaissance because of the hope for black uplift and interracial empathy that it embodied and because there is a certain element of romanticism associated with the era’s creativity, its seemingly larger than life heroes and heroines, and its most brilliantly lit terrain, Harlem, USA.”

“In April war was declared with Germany. Wilson and his cabinet—a cabinet that in its lack of distinction was strangely reminiscent of the twelve apostles—let loose the carefully starved dogs of war, and the press began to whoop hysterically against the sinister morals, sinister philosophy, and sinister music produced by the Teutonic temperament. Those who fancied themselves particularly broad-minded made the exquisite distinction that it was only the German Government which aroused them to hysteria; the rest were worked up to a condition of retching indecency. Any song which contained the word "mother" and the word "kaiser" was assured of a tremendous success. At last every one had something to talk about—and almost every one fully enjoyed it, as though they had been cast for parts in a sombre and romantic play.”

“It was late morning when he woke and found the telephone beside his bed in the hotel tolling frantically, and remembered that he had left word to be called at eleven. Sloane was snoring heavily, his clothes in a pile by his bed. They dressed and ate breakfast in silence, and then sauntered out to get some air. Amory's mind was working slowly, trying to assimilate what had happened and separate from the chaotic imagery that stacked his memory the bare shreds of truth. If the morning had been cold and gray he could have grasped the reins of the past in an instant, but it was one of those days that New York gets sometimes in May, when the air of Fifth Avenue is a soft, light wine. How much or how little Sloane remembered Amory did not care to know; he apparently had none of the nervous tension that was gripping Amory and forcing his mind back and forth like a shrieking saw.”

“We were in an age of broken dreams, and destroyed idealism. To see performances was to watch death's hand slowly moving away from the face of his victims -- their souls taken away through the chords of instrumentation and voice. Musicians, reapers made into humans, deceiving others to follow them through reaching others hearts with their musical craftsmanship. Writers, the thieves of the dreaming stow-aways of society. Painters, the men and women who depict the very essence of what they see as our world, and the thieves of hearts. And then, we have the singers: The devil’s voice that could lead masses into battle, with the essence of an angel. Sadly, our worlds weren’t much different.”

“And what else is one to do when presented so unexpectedly with such stupefying intrigue but continue turning the pages back in time, a time when a wave of excess carried the American aristocracy and titled Europeans to grand ships and grander estates for extravagant parties never before seen and never seen thereafter. They stumbled onto the laps of married lovers, champagne spilling onto polished marble floors, betrayal and indecency dressed up in custom-made suits and an air of refinement honed since birth. This was the Jazz Age. The Crazy Years. Les Années Folles, as she often said.”

“it somehow felt dissociating. A world in which I did not belong to, or could never belong to. Parties, as if it was 1920, transpired days and nights, spent in the bliss of alcohol, self-indulgence, sex and drug abuse. As if we humans were whores addicted to the ignorance and bliss of nothingness that drugs, sex and alcohol brought about. A never-ending freedom in which we could always come back to if we needed to. Luxurious, the life of the rich.”

“It really was a whole generation who were listening to Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Thelonious Monk, Ella Fitzgerald, Sonny Rollins, James Moody, Fats Navarro and, a little bit later on, Mongo Santamaría and Chuck Berry, and these dozen or so guys gave them a voice. They led the way. They wrote what a whole generation wanted to read. The time was right and they seized the day by writing about their lives. They travelled, they got into scrapes, they got arrested, they got wasted … and they wrote about it. Isn’t that something?”

“Jazz as Herman has come to it is part of the big come-on. Get ‘em in and get ‘em loaded. Get ‘em loaded and get ‘em laid. Get ‘em laid and get ‘em out. And all the while the band made noise, laid down the beat. When you got laid, you jazzed your girl, but you didn’t want to the hit the street with jazz still on our pants… and, what the hell, jazz is jazz… and the dance floor and the tables, too, completely filled and the temperature going up and up, the faces of the dancers shining with sweat and excitement. Because they’ve surrendered as well, all of them, the booze beginning to take hold, its toxic contents roaring through their veins, mounting into the heads topped with brilliantined hair or bobbed, the girls’ cheeks flushed like rose petals and the flush creeping down their swanlike necks, past the strings of paste that for tonight are agreed to be the real thing.”

“Jazz as Herman has come to know it is part of the big come-on. Get ‘em in and get ‘em loaded. Get ‘em loaded and get ‘em laid. Get ‘em laid and get ‘em out. And all the while the band made noise, laid down the beat. When you got laid, you jazzed your girl, but you didn’t want to the hit the street with jazz still on our pants… and, what the hell, jazz is jazz… and the dance floor and the tables, too, completely filled and the temperature going up and up, the faces of the dancers shining with sweat and excitement. Because they’ve surrendered as well, all of them, the booze beginning to take hold, its toxic contents roaring through their veins, mounting into the heads topped with brilliantined hair or bobbed, the girls’ cheeks flushed like rose petals and the flush creeping down their swanlike necks, past the strings of paste that for tonight are agreed to be the real thing.”

“Fitzgerald could sense that America was poised on the edge of a vast transformation, and wrote a novel bridging his moment and ours. The Great Gatsby made manifest precisely what Fitzgerald’s contemporaries couldn’t bear to see, and thus it is not only the Jazz Age novel par excellence, but also the harbinger of its decline and fall.”

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

“Whenever you feel like criticizing any one... just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.”

“Though the Jazz Age continued it became less and less an affair of youth. The sequel was like a children's party taken over by the elders.”