F. Scott Fitzgerald, fully Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald

F. Scott
Fitzgerald, fully Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald

American Novelist, Short-Story Writer best known for The Great Gatsby and Tender is the Night which were both made into films

Author Quotes

When I was younger and more vulnerable, my father gave me some advice which I have not stopped thinking about since. Before criticizing anyone, he said, remember that not everyone has had the advantages have you had. '

Will father be there? she asked. John turned to her in astonishment. Your father is dead, he replied somberly. Why should he go to Hades? You have it confused with another place that was abolished long ago. After supper they folded up the table-cloth and spread their blankets for the night. What a dream it was, Kismine sighed, gazing up at the stars. How strange it seems to be here with one dress and a penniless fian! Under the stars, she repeated. I never noticed the stars before. I always thought of them as great big diamonds that belonged to someone. Now they frighten me. They make me feel that it was all a dream, all my youth. It was a dream, said John quietly. Everybody's youth is a dream, a form of chemical madness. How pleasant then to be insane! So I'm told, said John gloomily. I don't know any longer. At any rate, let us love for a while, for a year or so, you and me. That's a form of divine drunkenness that we can all try. There are only diamonds in the whole world, diamonds and perhaps the shabby gift of disillusion. Well, I have that last and I will make the usual nothing of it. He shivered. Turn up your coat collar, little girl, the night's full of chill and you'll get pneumonia. His was a great sin who first invented consciousness. Let us lose it for a few hours. So wrapping himself in his blanket he fell off to sleep.

Think about how much you love me - had whispered. I'm not asking you to love me always like this, but I do ask you to remember. Whatever happens, there's always something in me than I am tonight

Tired, tired with nothing, tired with everything, tired with the worldÂ’s weight he had never chosen to bear.

Unlike Gatsby and Tom Buchanan I had no girl whose disembodied face floated along the dark cornices and blinding signs and so I drew up the girl beside me, tightening my arms. Her wan scornful mouth smiled and I drew her up again, closer, this time to my face.

We have two or three great moving experiences in our lives-experiences so great and moving that it doesn't seem at the time that anyone else has been so caught up and pounded and dazzled and astonished and beaten and broken and rescued and illuminated and rewarded in just that way ever before.

What do you think of that? ItÂ’s stopped raining.

When people are taken out of their depths they lose their heads, no matter how charming a bluff they may put up.

Wilson shook his head. His eyes narrowed and his mouth widened slightly with the ghost of a superior ‘Hm!’.

Think how you love me,' she whispered. 'I don't ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember.' You'll always be like this to me.' Oh no; but promise me you'll remember.' Her tears were falling. 'I'll be different, but somewhere lost inside me there'll always be the person I am tonight.

Tireless passion, fierce jealousy, longing to possess and crush-these alone were left of all his love for Rosalind; these remained to him as payment for the loss of his youth-bitter calomel under the thin sugar of love's exaltation.

Unlike lovers they possessed no past; unlike man and wife, they possessed no future; yet up to in this morning Nicole had liked Abe better than anyone except Dick--and he had been heavy, belly-frightened, with love for her for years.

We havenÂ’t met for many years, said Daisy, her voice as matter-of-fact as it could ever be. Five years next November. The automatic quality set us all back at least another minute.

What people are ashamed of usually makes a good story.

When she saw him face to face their eyes met and brushed like birdsÂ’ wings. After that everything was all right, everything was wonderful, she knew that he was beginning to fall in love with her.

Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New York. He's so dumb he doesn't know he's alive.

They talked aimlessly back and forth, each speaking for the other.

Think of all the fine men we should lose is suicide were not so cowardly

To a profound pessimist about life, being in danger is not depressing.

Unloved women have no biographies-- they have histories

We must leave this terrifying place to-morrow and go searching for sunshine.

What realism! Knew when to stop, too — didn’t cut the pages. But what do you want? What do you expect?

When the first-rate author wants an exquisite heroine or a lovely morning, he finds that all the superlatives have been worn shoddy by his inferiors. It should be a rule that bad writers must start with plain heroines and ordinary mornings, and, if they are able, work up to something better.

WilsonÂ’s glazed eyes turned out to the ash heaps, where small gray clouds took on fantastic shape and scurried here and there in the faint dawn wind.

They were both in white, and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house.

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First Name
F. Scott
Last Name
Fitzgerald, fully Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald
Birth Date
Death Date

American Novelist, Short-Story Writer best known for The Great Gatsby and Tender is the Night which were both made into films