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“I want to write something new - something extraordinary and beautiful and simple and intricately patterned.
As usual,
F. Scott Fitzgerald”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald

“Our thoughts were frosty mist along the eaves; our two ghosts kissed, high on the long, mazed wires - eerie half-laughter echoes here and leaves only a fatuous sigh for young desires; regret has followed after things she loved, leaving the great husk.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise

“[About Ernest Hemingway] He’s a peach of a fellow and absolutely first-rate.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald

“Scott was a man then who looked like a boy with a face between handsome and pretty... The mouth worried you until you knew him and then it worried you more.”
― Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

“While I had been angry I had demoted him from Scott to Fitzgerald”
― Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

“Scott had learned much about girls when he was courting Zelda: the paradoxical mix of dependency and disdain she felt for her own beauty, the small tragedies and triumphs of her teenage life. In transferring these nuances to Rosalind, he became one of the first writers in post-war America to evoke a complex, modern heroine.”
― Judith Mackrell, Flappers: Six Women of a Dangerous Generation

“But Amory, being on the spot, leaned over quickly and kissed Myra’s cheek. He had never kissed a girl before, and he tasted his lips curiously, as if he had munched some new fruit. Then their lips brushed like young wild flowers in the wind.
‘We’re Awful,â€� rejoiced Myra gently. she slipped her hand into his, her dead drooped against his shoulder. Sudden revulsion seized Amory, disgust, loathing for the whole incident. He desired frantically to be away, never to see Myra again, never to kiss anyone; he became conscious of his face and hers, of their clinging hands, and he wanted to creep out of his body and hide somewhere safe out of sight, up in the corner of his mind.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise

“I am not sure Scott had ever drunk wine from a bottle before and it was exciting to him as though he were slumming or as a girl might be excited by going swimming for the first time without a bathing suit.”
― Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

“What must love itself in its fullness, its perfection be. He did not know that what he was experiencing then, that unreal, undesirous medley of ecstasy and peace, would be unrecapturable forever.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, Love in the Night

“Scott, with a gentleness that Gerald would never forget and that continued to pain him long afterward, ever so carefully turned the beetle back over, cradled it in his palm, and placed it tenderly under a mound of lavender.”
― Liza Klaussmann, Villa America