One hurries through, even though there's time; the past, the continent, is behind; the future is the glowing mouth in the side of the ship; the dim, turbulent alley is too confusedly the present.
F. Scott FitzgeraldHer beauty climbed the rolling slope, it came into the room, rustling ghost-like through the curtains.
F. Scott FitzgeraldI carry the place around the world in my heart but sometimes I try to shake it off in my dreams
F. Scott Fitzgerald