(no subject)
Quote 29: "[Gatsby] wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was." Chapter 6, pg. 111-12
Quote 32: "...with every word she was drawing further and further into herself, so he gave that up, and only the dead dream fought on as the afternoon slipped away, trying to touch what was no longer tangible, struggling unhappily, undespairingly, toward that lost voice across the room." Chapter 7, pg. 135
Quote 39: "Gatsby himself didn't believe [her call] would come, and perhaps he no longer cared. 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. A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about...." Chapter 8, pg. 162
Quote 44: "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." Chapter 9, pg. 182
Quote 32: "...with every word she was drawing further and further into herself, so he gave that up, and only the dead dream fought on as the afternoon slipped away, trying to touch what was no longer tangible, struggling unhappily, undespairingly, toward that lost voice across the room." Chapter 7, pg. 135
Quote 39: "Gatsby himself didn't believe [her call] would come, and perhaps he no longer cared. 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. A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about...." Chapter 8, pg. 162
Quote 44: "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." Chapter 9, pg. 182