Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic 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.
He doesn’t want any trouble with ANYbody.
He doesn’t want any trouble with ANYbody.’ ‘Who doesn’t?’ I inquired. ‘Gatsby. Somebody told me – –.
A dim background started to take shape behind him, but at her next remark it faded away.
And on Mondays eight servants, including an extra gardener, toiled all day with mops and scrubbing-brushes and hammers and garden-shears, repairing the ravages of the night before.
You wouldn’t have to do any business with Wolfsheim.” Evidently he thought that I was shying away from the “gonnegtion” mentioned at lunch, but I assured him he was wrong.
Like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.
Each night he added to the pattern of his fancies until drowsiness closed down upon some vivid scene with an oblivious embrace.
Succeeding Dexter’s first exhilaration came restlessness and dissatisfaction. The helpless ecstasy of losing himself in her was opiate rather than tonic. It was fortunate for his work during the winter that those moments of ecstasy came infrequently.
These dead, he knew them all, their weather-beaten faces with blue flashing eyes, the spare violent bodies, the souls made of new earth in the forest-heavy darkness of the seventeenth century.
He would be a different person henceforward, and in his raw state he had bizarre feelings of what his new self would be.
Her body hovered delicately on the last edge of childhood – she was almost eighteen, nearly complete, but the dew was still on her.
The garden of Dr. Harden was full of sunshine and bosomed with Japanese magnolia trees dropping pink tears over the grass.
There was nothing to look at from under the tree except Gatsby’s enormous house, so I stared at it, like Kant at his church steeple, for half an hour.
She was dressed in pale green, and a gold ribbon bound back her dark, straight hair like a crown.
The sun was pouring in, creeping in stealthily lengthening squares across his desk and the litter of papers that strewed it...
We’re getting old,′ said Daisy. ‘If we were young we’d rise and dance.
We heard it from three people, so it must be true.
She’s said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.
Only as the local train shambled into the low-forested clayland of Westmoreland County, did he feel once more identified with his surroundings; at the station he saw a star he knew, and a cold moon bright over Chesapeake bay; he heard the rasping wheels of buckboards turning, the lovely fatuous voices, the sound of sluggish primeval rivers flowing softly under soft Indian names.