"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." (p. 144)
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“I love you now — isn’t that enough? I can’t help what’s past.” ... “I did love him once — but I loved you too.” (p. 132) "But Catherine, who might have said anything, didn't say a word. She showed a surprising amount of character about it too--looked at the coroner with determined eyes under that corrected brow of hers and swore that her sister had never seen Gatsby, that her sister was completely happy with her husband, that her sister had been into no mischief whatever. She convinced herself of it and cried into her handkerchief as if the very suggestion was more than she could endure." (p. 131) His children sold his house with the black wreath still on his door. Americans, while occasionally willing to be serfs, have always been obstinate about being peasantry. (p. 75) "They're such beautiful shirts." ... "It makes me sad because I've never seen such -- such beautiful shirts before." (p. 92) "He stretched out his arms toward the dark water in a curious way, and, far as I was from him, I could have sworn he was trembling. Involuntarily I glanced seaward – and distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far way, that might have been the end of a dock." (p. 21) "I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life" (p. 36). "He was a blond, spiritless man, anaemic, and faintly handsome. When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes." (p.29) "Then I heard footsteps on a stairs, and in a moment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door. She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can. Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crépe-de-chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty, but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering." (p. 29-30) "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 understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as much 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." (p 39) |
PurposeMichelle Luu and Jennifer Nguyen simply touch upon some literary aspects and interpretations of the Francis Scott K. Fitzgerald's work, The Great Gatsby (1925). ArchivesCategories |