Whenever you feel like criticizing any one, just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.
2.All the bright precious things fade so fast...and they don't come back.
A sense of the fundamental decencies is parceled out unequally at birth.
4.There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.
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.
6.Everyone suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and this is mine: I am one of the few honest people I have ever known.
Yet high over the city our line of yellow windows must have contributed their share of human secrecy to the casual watcher in the darkening streets, and I was him too, looking up and wondering. I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.
Everyone suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues and this.
9..So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.
He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.
He was a son of God—a phrase which, if it means anything, means just that—and he must be about His Father’s business, the service of a vast, vulgar, and meretricious beauty.
So engrossed was she that she had no consciousness of being observed, and one emotion after another crept into her face like objects into a slowly developing picture.
I couldn’t sleep all night; a fog-horn was groaning incessantly on the Sound, and I tossed half-sick between grotesque reality and savage, frightening dreams.
She vanished into her rich house, into her rich, full life, leaving Gatsby—nothing.
Gatsby was overwhelmingly aware of the youth and mystery that wealth imprisons and preserves, of the freshness of many clothes, and of Daisy, gleaming like silver, safe and proud above the hot struggles of the poor.
What could you make of that, except to suspect some intensity in his conception of the affair that couldn’t be measured?
18. 如果这一情况真实的话，他那时一定感觉到了他已失去了他原来的那个温馨世界，感觉到了他为这么长时间只活在一个梦里所付出的高昂代价。他那时一定举头望过 令人恐怖的叶片，看到了一个陌生的天宇，他一定不由得颤栗了，当他发现玫瑰原来长得是那么的奇形怪状，照在疏疏落落的草叶上的阳光是那么粗鄙。这是一个没 有真实的物的新世界，在那里可怜的鬼魂们四处随风飘荡，他们像呼吸空气那样吮吸着梦幻。
If that was true he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high price for living too long with a single dream. He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass. A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about . . .
I’m thirty. I’m five years too old to lie to myself and call it honor.etic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder.
He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
It eluded us then,but that's no matter to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther...and one fine morning. So we beat on,boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly nto the past.