When I'm with you, I don't breathe quite right.

People disappeared, reappeared, made plans to go somewhere, and then lost each other, searched for each other, found each other a few feet away.

The truth was that Jay Gatsby, of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic conception of himself. He was a son of God—a phrase which, if it means anything, means just that—and he must be about His Father’s Business, the service of a vast, vulgar and meretricious beauty.

Reporting the extreme things as if they were the average things will start you on the art of fiction.

She wanted to exist only as a conscious flower, prolonging and preserving herself

There was a kindliness about intoxication - there was that indescribable gloss and glamour it gave, like the memories of ephemeral and faded evenings.

the best contacts are when one knows the obstacles and still wants to preserve a relation.