Best Of F. Scott Fitzgerald Novels & Stories

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

It was filled with 999 folded paper stars. He unfolded them one by one and saw that every single one of them contained something about him, as if peering into the deepest layers of Lindsey's heart. "Go on a date with Jacob. "Watch a movie with Jacob. "Go to Farisia, the City of Romance, with Jacob." … After collecting all the places Lindsey wanted to visit, Jacob set out for Farisia the very next day. However, he failed to find a single trace of her despite searching all over the city.

“Liam has nothing to do with this? Of course he doesn't. It's all my fault that whenever I come to find you, he's always around him. It's all my fucking fault, Noah that you seem to trust him more than you trust me!” My hands flew to my forehead and I hissed. What the fuck was all this? When did we shift to whom I trusted most? Of course it was Liam. He fucking understood me the most but i … I also trusted Leela. I gave her the benefit of doubt. I inhaled deeply, “Liam is my best friend. Of course I trust him. What are you getting at Leela?” I didn't realise Liam had walked over until I noticed the way Leela backed away a bit, and walked over to my side.

The air smelled faintly of lavender and lemongrass, blending with the clink of cutlery and low hum of conversation. I sat in the corner, flanked by Kayla, with her long curls and baby-blue blazer that never wrinkled, and Nadia, the screenwriter who couldn’t eat lunch without her oversized sunglasses, even though we were indoors. “You seriously didn’t come to brunch yesterday?” Nadia asked, poking at her salad with a mildly judgmental tone. “They said the De Russos rented a private garden in Bel Air. Supposedly insane.” “Kay, show her your photos.”

"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.

“Tragic. His company's stock crashed. Then, he got hit with an investigation. I heard he went bankrupt, with creditors chasing him everywhere, and his health fell apart. Just a few days ago, the papers ran photos of him looking like a homeless man. Tsk…” Daniel’s hand tightened around mine, and I squeezed his hand back, smiling softly. Looking at our radiant son on stage and then at our bright-eyed daughter beside me, my heart felt perfectly calm. After the performance, we returned to the Howard estate. The butler stepped forward, holding a large bouquet of vibrant roses. “Ma’am, these are for you,” he said. Tucked inside the bouquet was a small card, the handwriting shaky. “Wishing you happ

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.

"What would you have done if Fenryr hadn't gotten here in time and I wasn't his fiancée? Would you still apologize to me and beg me for forgiveness now?" I knew what these scumbags were like, and I had no intention of letting them get away this easily. I eyed their ashen faces imperiously and enunciated my decision, "I will not forgive any of you. If you won't respect me or any other female, you don't deserve to be part of the nobility. "Perhaps it would be better if they were rid of their tools of crime so that they may never terrorize another woman again. Castrate them all."