He was very shy and quite young and the train men passed him on from one crew to another.

“I’m stiff,” she complained, “I’ve been lying on that sofa for as long as I can remember.”

When they fired the first volley he was sitting down in the water with his head on his knees.

The others went on ahead of him down to the lake shore where the logs were buried in the sand.

Hortons Bay, the town, was only five houses on the main road between Boyne City and Charlevoix.

Then the hand that felt so big in her lap went away and was on her leg and started to move up it.

He was a good horseshoer and did not look much like a blacksmith even with his leather apron on.

On the train from Padua to Milan they quarreled about her not being willing to come home at once.

Nick’s father ordered some water to be put on the stove, and while it was heating he spoke to Nick.

I went back to the hotel and Maera was on the balcony looking out to see if I’d be bringing him back.

After he got on crutches he used to take the temperatures so Ag would not have to get up from the bed.

Jim held her tight hard against the chair and she wanted it now and Jim whispered, “Come on for a walk.”

Tom Buchanan, who had been hovering restlessly about the room, stopped and rested his hand on my shoulder.

“You make me feel uncivilized, Daisy,” I confessed on my second glass of corky but rather impressive claret.

The hemlock planks of the dock were hard and splintery and cold and Jim was heavy on her and he had hurt her.

When they operated on him she prepared him for the operating table; and they had a joke about friend or enema.

It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road.

Her Bible, her copy of Science and Health and her Quarterly were on a table beside her bed in the darkened room.

In the cottage the doctor, sitting on the bed in his room, saw a pile of medical journals on the floor by the bureau.

We went to work on the trench and in the morning the sun came up and the day was hot and muggy and cheerful and quiet.

At Bologna he said goodbye to us to go on the train to Milano and then to Aosta to walk over the pass into Switzerland.

Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes, but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on.

I must have stood for a few moments listening to the whip and snap of the curtains and the groan of a picture on the wall.

He went under the anaesthetic holding tight on to himself so he would not blab about anything during the silly, talky time.

And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarcely knew at all.

I told her how I had stopped off in Chicago for a day on my way East, and how a dozen people had sent their love through me.

Over his head was a bull’s head, stuffed by a Madrid taxidermist; on the walls were framed photographs and bullfight posters.

There was no moon and they walked ankle deep in the sandy road through the trees down to the dock and the warehouse on the bay.

In the early morning on the lake sitting in the stern of the boat with his father rowing, he felt quite sure that he would never die.

“Now, don’t think my opinion on these matters is final,” he seemed to say, “just because I’m stronger and more of a man than you are.”

She bit Uncle George on the arm and Uncle George said, “Damn squaw bitch!” and the young Indian who had rowed Uncle George over laughed at him.

So I went down and caught up with them and grabbed him while he was crouched down waiting for the music to break loose and said, “Come on, Luis.”

The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon.

The horse’s entrails hung down in a blue bunch and swung backward and forward as he began to canter, the monos whacking him on the back of his legs with the rods.

It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York⁠—and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land.

In the fall he and Smith and Charley Wyman took a wagon and tent, grub, axes, their rifles and two dogs and went on a trip to the pine plains beyond Vanderbilt deer hunting.

One day she found that she liked it the way the hair was black on his arms and how white they were above the tanned line when he washed up in the washbasin outside the house.

She was extended full length at her end of the divan, completely motionless, and with her chin raised a little, as if she were balancing something on it which was quite likely to fall.

It was very beautiful in the spring and summer, the bay blue and bright and usually whitecaps on the lake out beyond the point from the breeze blowing from Charlevoix and Lake Michigan.

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.

He cared nothing for boxing, in fact he disliked it, but he learned it painfully and thoroughly to counteract the feeling of inferiority and shyness he had felt on being treated as a Jew at Princeton.

Across the courtesy bay the white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water, and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans.

The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch.

Slenderly, languidly, their hands set lightly on their hips, the two young women preceded us out on to a rosy-coloured porch, open toward the sunset, where four candles flickered on the table in the diminished wind.

No⁠—Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.

I bought a dozen volumes on banking and credit and investment securities, and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Maecenas knew.

A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling, and then rippled over the wine-coloured rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea.

This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn’t believe it⁠—I had no sight into Daisy’s heart, but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seeking, a little wistfully, for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game.

The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard⁠—it was a factual imitation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool, and more than forty acres of lawn and garden.

In 1919 he was traveling on the railroads in Italy, carrying a square of oilcloth from the headquarters of the party written in indelible pencil and saying here was a comrade who had suffered very much under the Whites in Budapest and requesting comrades to aid him in any way.