Show me a hero, and I will write you a tragedy.
Category: F. Scott Fitzgerald
Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald (September 24, 1896 – December 21, 1940) was an American author of novels and short stories, whose works are the paradigmatic writings of the Jazz Age.
At the worst I accepted Hollywood with the resignation of a ghost assigned to a haunted house.
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.
The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function.
Sometimes it is harder to deprive oneself of a pain than of a pleasure.
This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the “creative temperament.”
She saw something awful in the very simplicity she failed to understand.
What I had almost remembered was uncommunicable forever.
All good writing is swimming under water and holding your breath.
No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.
He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never again romp like the mind of God.