So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star.
F. Scott FitzgeraldThey weren't happy, and neither of them had touched the chicken or the ale---and yet they weren't unhappy either. There was an unmistakable air of natural intimacy about the picture and anybody would have said that they were conspiring together.
F. Scott FitzgeraldHer beautiful eyes and lips were very grave as she made her choice, and Anthony thought again how naive was her every gesture; she took all the things of life for hers to choose from and apportion, as though she were continually picking out presents for herself from an inexhaustible counter.
F. Scott Fitzgerald