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It was when curiosity about Gatsby was at its highest that the lights in his house failed to go on one Saturday night — and, as obscurely as it had begun, his career as Trimalchio was over. Only gradu
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It was when curiosity about Gatsby was at its highest that the lights in his house failed to go on one Saturday night — and, as obscurely as it had begun, his career as Trimalchio was over. Only gradu
After two years I remember the rest of that day, and that night and the next day, only as an endless drill of police an…
I couldn’t sleep all night; a fog-horn was groaning incessantly on the Sound, and I tossed half-sick between grotesque …
About this time an ambitious young reporter from New York arrived one morning at Gatsby’s door and asked him if he had …
When I came home to West Egg that night I was afraid for a moment that my house was on fire. Two o’clock and the whole …
On Sunday morning while church bells rang in the villages alongshore, the world and its mistress returned to Gatsby’s h…
There was music from my neighbor’s house through the summer nights. In his blue gardens men and girls came and went lik…
About half way between West Egg and New York the motor road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter…
In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since…
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