The bar is in full swing, and floating rounds of cocktails permeate the garden outside, until the air is alivewith chatter and laughter, and casual innuendo and introductions forgotten on the spot, and enthusiastic meetings between women who never knew each otherโs names.
F. Scott FitzgeraldPoetry is either something that lives like fire inside you -- like music to the musician or Marxism to the Communist -- or else it is nothing, an empty, formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.
F. Scott Fitzgeraldhe wanted people to like his mind again-after awhile it might be such a nice place in which to live.
F. Scott FitzgeraldAnd after reading Thoreau I felt how much I have lost by leaving nature out of my life.
F. Scott Fitzgerald