Unforgettable Great Gatsby Quotes

He had come a long way to this blue lawn and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it.

In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.

Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day of the year and miss it.

And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.

Can’t repeat the past? Why, of course, you can.

Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope.

There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice.

Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.

Unforgettable Great Gatsby Quotes part 2

You can’t repeat the past.

Everyone suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and this is mine: I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known.

It’s a great advantage not to drink among hard-drinking people.

Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.

There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy, and the tired.

You see I usually find myself among strangers because I drift here and there trying to forget the sad things that happened to me.

A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about…like that ashen, fantastic figure gliding toward him through the amorphous trees.

He broke off defiantly. ‘What’s the matter, Nick? Do you object to shaking hands with me?’ ‘Yes.’

He knew that when he kissed this girl and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God.

His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy’s white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her.

Then she added irrelevantly: ‘You ought to see the baby.’

We all turned around and looked for Gatsby. It was testimony to the romantic speculation he inspired that there were whispers about him from those who found little that it was necessary to whisper about in this world.

There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams — not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion.

He smiled understandingly — much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced — or seemed to face — the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.

The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain.

The truth was that Jay Gatsby, of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic conception of himself.

I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.

No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.

It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life.

I couldn’t forgive him or like him, but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified.

Ah, she cried, you look so cool.

They’re a rotten crowd… You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.

He smiled understandingly – much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced – or seemed to face – the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor.

I wanted to get out and walk southward toward the park through the soft twilight, but each time I tried to go I became entangled in some wild strident argument which pulled me back, as if with ropes, into my chair.

Certainly not for a common swindler who’d have to steal the ring he put on her finger.

I understand nothing, she asserted, listlessly. I’m sophisticated. Even the Catholic Church doesn’t believe it, I remarked. Gatsby bought that house so that Daisy would be just across the bay.”

They were careless people, Tom and Daisy. They smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.

What’ll we do with ourselves this afternoon?” cried Daisy, “and the day after that, and the next thirty years?

I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.

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—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch our arms out farther. . . . And then one fine morning— So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way.

He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God.

There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams — not through her own fault but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion.

Pouring two martinis, Gatsby sees the hot sand of his little world dwindling away, the city lights turning gold across the water. 45.He found himself talking with someone whose hausfrau-wife was obligingly quiet all evening, only bidding good-bye when the host turned into a jeweled pumpkin one pill away from being a vegetarian vampire.

He had come a long way to this blue lawn and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it.

In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy.

Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day of the year and miss it.

And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.

Can’t repeat the past? Why, of course, you can.

Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope.

There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice.

Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.

You can’t repeat the past.

Everyone suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and this is mine: I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known.

It’s a great advantage not to drink among hard-drinking people.

Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.

There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy, and the tired.

You see I usually find myself among strangers because I drift here and there trying to forget the sad things that happened to me.

A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about…like that ashen, fantastic figure gliding toward him through the amorphous trees.

He broke off defiantly. ‘What’s the matter, Nick? Do you object to shaking hands with me?’ ‘Yes.’

He knew that when he kissed this girl and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God.

His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy’s white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her.

Then she added irrelevantly: ‘You ought to see the baby.’

We all turned around and looked for Gatsby. It was testimony to the romantic speculation he inspired that there were whispers about him from those who found little that it was necessary to whisper about in this world.

There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams — not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion.

He smiled understandingly — much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced — or seemed to face — the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.

The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain.

The truth was that Jay Gatsby, of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic conception of himself.

I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.

No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.

It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life.

I couldn’t forgive him or like him, but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified.

Ah, she cried, you look so cool.

They’re a rotten crowd… You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.

He smiled understandingly – much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced – or seemed to face – the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor.

I wanted to get out and walk southward toward the park through the soft twilight, but each time I tried to go I became entangled in some wild strident argument which pulled me back, as if with ropes, into my chair.

Certainly not for a common swindler who’d have to steal the ring he put on her finger.

I understand nothing, she asserted, listlessly. I’m sophisticated. Even the Catholic Church doesn’t believe it, I remarked. Gatsby bought that house so that Daisy would be just across the bay.”

They were careless people, Tom and Daisy. They smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.

What’ll we do with ourselves this afternoon?” cried Daisy, “and the day after that, and the next thirty years?

I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.

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—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch our arms out farther. . . . And then one fine morning— So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way.

He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God.

There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams — not through her own fault but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion.

Pouring two martinis, Gatsby sees the hot sand of his little world dwindling away, the city lights turning gold across the water. 45.He found himself talking with someone whose hausfrau-wife was obligingly quiet all evening, only bidding good-bye when the host turned into a jeweled pumpkin one pill away from being a vegetarian vampire.