Laughter is easier minute by minute, spilled with prodigality, tipped out at a cheerful word.

i'm a slave to my emotions, to my likes, to my hatred of boredom, to most of my desires

Ah," she cried, "you look so cool." Their eyes met, and they stared together at each other, alone in space. With an effort she glanced down at the table. You always look so cool," she repeated. She had told him that she loved him, and Tom Buchanan saw.

Your life on earth will be, as always, the interval between two significant glances in a mundane mirror.

That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you're not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.

Action is character.

Eighteen might look at thirty-four through a rising mist of adolescence, but twenty-two would see thirty-eight with discerning clarity.