I care not who hoes the lettuce of my country if I can eat the salad!
Your life on earth will be, as always, the interval between two significant glances in a mundane mirror.
Better let it all alone in the depths of her heart and the depths of the sea.
America is a willingness of the heart.
The reason one writes isn't the fact he wants to say something. He writes because he has something to say.
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter - to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther ... And one fine morning ---