Of the things they possessed in common, greatest of all was their almost uncanny pull at each others hearts.

To write it, it took three months; to conceive it three minutes; to collect the data in it all my life.

Family quarrels are bitter things. They don't go according to any rules. They're not like aches or wounds, they're more like splits in the skin that won't heal because there's not enough material.

Suddenly she realized that what she was regretting was not the lost past but the lost future, not what had not been but what would never be.

I am slow-thinking and full of interior rules that act as brakes on my desires.

he was figuratively following along beside her as she walked the fence, ready to catch her if she should fall.

"If it wasn’t for the mist we could see your home across the bay," said Gatsby. "You always have a green light that burns at the end of your dock." Daisy put her arm through his abruptly but he seemed absorbed in what he had just said. Possibly it had occurred to him that the colossal significance of that light had now vanished forever. Compared to the great distance that had separated him from Daisy it had seemed very near to him, almost touching her. It had seemed as close as a star to the moon. Now it was again a green light on a dock. His count of enchanted things had diminished by one.