Best F Scott Fitzgerald Books Novels & Stories

But I really wasn't ready to go inside and face my fears. “I'll be right back.” “Take your time.” Zeke says, pulling out a thin, paperback book from his pocket. I notice the title and smile when I see that he is reading The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. “I have my book to keep me occupied.” “It's a pretty good book.” I tell him with a smile. “It must be. This is my fourth time reading it.” He tells me with a grin and I chuckle. He and I are so much alike. I reread my favorite books too; I've read Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte six times.

"Any favorites?" Scott joined her by the bookshelf, scanning the titles. "Oh, there are so many. I enjoy science fiction and fantasy genres the most. Some of my favorites include 'Dune' by Frank Herbert, 'Ender's Game' by Orson Scott Card, and 'Harry Potter' series by J.K. Rowling. But I'm always open to discovering new books too." Fiona nodded, impressed by Scott's literary tastes. She herself was an avid reader and appreciated finding common ground with him.

"Men get to be a mixture of the charming mannerism of the women they have known." -F. Scott Fitzgerald- *** Warm ray of sunlight welcomed her at the exit, she still had some time before lunch, and thought that she might be able to visit one more place, picking up her guide book, she flipped through the pages and searched for the most popular places in the neighborhood.

She stopped abruptly, then turned to me, “What are your favourites? I mean, apart from Pride and Prejudice. I tilted my head, “You want to know?” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and I wished I had noticed it first. “Tolstoy, Fitzgerald, and Baldwin.” “The Great Gatsby?” She asked, “Of course, you're the type of man who'll admire Gatsby. Rich, brilliant but lonely as hell.” She went on a full rant about Gatsby then, her hands gesturing animatedly, and I never wanted her to stop.

He held open the door for me, as I got inside, holding the book I had brought close to my chest. "What are you reading today?" He asked, as he started up the engine, he smiled looking over at me. "The Beautiful and The Damned", I told him and he picked up on the title. "You're reading Fitzgerald", he asked, recognizing it from his own collection. "Read it to me", he asked, and I looked at him as if he was serious, but he just kept his eyes on the road. So I started with the first page, reading it up until we got to the breakfast cafe.

Standing on her tiptoes, she pulled down a thin paperback and turned toward him, proudly holding it out for him to see. Chris nodded, not surprised that one of her favorites was The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald. “American literary fiction. A total classic for high schoolers.” Fiona ran her hand across the faded cover and nodded. “I couldn’t put it down. And then my father rented the movie—the first movie with Robert Redford playing the part of Gatsby. I was hooked.” Chris liked the way she recalled the pleasant memory. Her smile wasn’t

I need to take time. I remember the small room I entered last time. I slowly opened the door and turned on the lampshade. The books on the table were still scattered. I tried to look and read each one of them. These are all interesting books. Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer, The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and a lot more. I tried to find something that might help me, but I found nothing.

The unfocused attention of letting something arrive in its own time. He stopped in front of the fiction section. Looked at a shelf. Reached out. Pulled a book without looking at what it was. Turned it over. Read nothing on the back. Just held it. The woman at the register was watching him. He could feel it. The quality of attention he was used to, but he could feel something from her gaze. He put the book back. Pulled another one. This one he actually read. *Tender is the Night.* Fitzgerald.