He hadn’t once ceased looking at Daisy, and I think he revalued everything in his house according to the measure of response it drew from her well-loved eyes. Sometimes, too, he stared around at his possessions in a dazed way, as though in her actual and astounding presence none of it was any longer real.

Cut out all these exclamation points. An exclamation point is like laughing at your own joke.

My God,' he gasped, 'you're fun to kiss.

my imagination persisted in sticking horrors into the dark- so I stuck my imagination into the dark instead, and let it look out at me.

Hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you.

When a girl feels that she’s perfectly groomed and dressed she can forget that part of her. That’s charm

I see now that this has been a story of the West, after all--Tom and Gatsby, Daisy and Jordan and I, were all Westerners, and perhaps we possessed some deficiency in common which made us subtly unadaptable to Eastern life.