Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.

The helpless ecstasy of loosing himself in her charm was a powerful opiate rather than a tonic.

Sometimes it is harder to deprive oneself of a pain than of a pleasure.

Baltimore is warm but pleasant... I belong here, where everything is civilized and gay and rotted and polite.

I want to know you moved and breathed in the same world with me.

You really ought to read more books - you know, those things that look like blocks but come apart on one side.

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