Quotes - Page 389 | Just Great DataBase

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 out our arms farther... And one fine morning- So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

Parecía mediar entre ambos un abismo invencible.

Somehow I’ve become separated emotionally from everyone and everything. And what I was really searching for out there in the dark streets—the last damned place I could ever find it—was a way to make myself a part of people again emotionally, while still retaining my freedom intellectually. I’ve got to grow up. For me it means everything. . . .

I don't want to see it. I don't want to look at something that determines me so completely.

There was so much to read, for one thing, and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giving air.

He was thinking of himself and the impression he was making, as she could tell by the sound of his voice, and his emphasis and his uneasiness.

His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It was an union that must have been to the advantage of both; by her ease and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved; and from his judgement, information, and knowledge of the world, she must have received benefit of greater importance.

Neighbors bring food with death and flowers with sickness and little things in between. Boo was our neighbor. He gave us two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of good-luck pennies, and our lives. But neighbors give in return. We never put back into the tree what we took out of it: we had given him nothing, and it made me sad.

I'm afraid my common sense, which was in short supply to begin with, wil be used up too quickly and I won't have any left by the time the war is over.

And that, put in the Director sententiously, that is the secret of happiness and virtue—liking what you’ve got to do. All conditioning aims at that: making people like their unescapable social destiny.

Perfino in quel pomeriggio dovevano esserci stati momenti in cui Daisy non era riuscita a stare all'altezza del sogno, non per sua colpa, ma a causa della vitalità colossale dell'illusione di lui che andava al di là di Daisy, di qualunque cosa. Gatsby vi si era gettato con passione creatrice, continuando ad accrescerla, ornandola di ogni piuma vivace che il vento gli sospingesse a portata di mano. Non c'è fuoco né gelo tale da sfidare ciò che un uomo può accumulare nel proprio cuore.

His first two clients were the last two persons hanged in the Maycomb County jail. Atticus had urged them to accept the state’s generosity in allowing them to plead Guilty to second-degree murder and escape with their lives, but they were Haverfords, in Maycomb County a name synonymous with jackass.

...since we see everyday that where there is affection, young people are seldom withheld by immediate want of fortune from entering into engagements with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many of my fellow creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In short, I will do my best.

wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand.

No one can ever know in advance if a project is going to result in something useful. Results are often negative. We learn what something is not—and that is as important as a positive discovery to the man who is going to pick up from there. At least he knows what not to do.

The theologians,the apologists, and their kin the metaphysicians, the high-handedstatesmen, and others, no longer interest me. All that has been spoilt forme by the grind of stern reality!

One day, I saw the sunset forty-four times! You know one loves the sunset, when one is so sad.

But if its a story, even in my head, I must be telling it to someone. You don't tell a story only to yourself. There's always someone.

It's obvious that I'm a stranger to her; she doesn't even know what I think about the most ordinary things.

If that was true he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high price for living too long with a single dream. He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass.