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Francis Scott Fitzgerald

    b5234514223цитує2 роки тому
    “Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”
    Anuja Singhцитує2 роки тому
    Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning—
    So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
    Zahraa🦋 📖цитуєминулого місяця
    Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”

    ♥️🦋

    Alexandra Skitiovaцитує2 роки тому
    Things went from bad to worse,’
    Alexandra Skitiovaцитує2 роки тому
    He smiled understandingly—much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced—or seemed to face—the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on YOU

    with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.
    Alexandra Skitiovaцитує2 роки тому
    ‘Anyhow he gives large parties,’ said Jordan, changing the subject with an urbane distaste for the concrete. ‘And I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.’
    Alexandra Skitiovaцитує2 роки тому
    No harm in trying,’ he said
    Alexandra Skitiovaцитує2 роки тому
    After that, if the night was mellow I strolled down Madison Avenue past the old Murray Hill Hotel and over Thirty-third Street to the Pennsylvania Station. I began to like New York, the racy, adventurous feel of it at night and the satisfaction that the constant flicker of men and women and machines gives to the restless eye. I liked to walk up Fifth Avenue and pick out romantic women from the crowd and imagine that in a few minutes I was going to enter into their lives, and no one would ever know or disapprove. Sometimes, in my mind, I followed them to their apartments on the corners of hidden streets, and they turned and smiled back at me before they faded through a door into warm darkness. At the enchanted metropolitan twilight I felt a haunting loneliness sometimes, and felt it in others—poor young clerks who loitered in front of windows waiting until it was time for a solitary restaurant dinner—young clerks in the dusk, wasting the most poignant moments of night and life. Again at eight o’clock, when the dark lanes of the Forties were five deep with throbbing taxi cabs, bound for the

    

    The Great Gatsby

    theatre district, I felt a sinking in my heart. Forms leaned together in the taxis as they waited, and voices sang, and there was laughter from unheard jokes, and lighted cigarettes outlined unintelligible gestures inside. Imagining that I, too, was hurrying toward gayety and sharing their intimate excitement, I wished them well.
    Alexandra Skitiovaцитує2 роки тому
    ‘You’re a rotten driver,’ I protested. ‘Either you ought to be more careful or you oughtn’t to drive at all.’
    Alexandra Skitiovaцитує2 роки тому
    Then he sat down, rigidly, his elbow on the arm of the sofa and his chin in his hand.
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