Best quotes! 

‘He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.’

‘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 further … And one fine morning – / So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.’

‘If that was true he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high price for living too long with a single dream. He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass. A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about … ‘

‘We were always thanking him for that – I and the others. / “Good-bye,” I called. “I enjoyed breakfast, Gatsby.”‘

‘… and Gatsby was overwhelmingly aware of the youth and mystery that wealth imprisons and preserves, of the freshness of many clothes, and of Daisy, gleaming like a silver, safe and proud above the hot struggles of the poor.’

‘Thirty – the promise of a decade of loneliness, a thinning list of single men to know, a thinning brief-case of enthusiasm, thinning hair. But there was Jordan beside me, who, unlike Daisy, was too wise ever to carry well-forgotten dreams from age to age.’

‘”It’s full of – ” I hesitated. / “Her voice is full of money,” he said suddenly.’

‘”What’ll we do with ourselves this afternoon?” cried Daisy, “and the day after that, and the next thirty years?”‘

‘ [Jordan] … I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.’

‘Gatsby – who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn. If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away.’

‘He put his hands in his coat pockets and turned back eagerly to his scrutiny of the house, as though my presence marred the sacredness of his vigil. So I walked away and left him standing there in the moonlight – watching over nothing.’

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