They seemed nearer, not only mentally, but physically when they read ... Their chance was to make everything fine and finished and rich and imaginati… - F. Scott Fitzgerald

It was the kind of voice that the ear follows up and down, as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again.

Each night he added to the pattern of his fancies until drowsiness closed down upon some vivid scene with an oblivious embrace. For awhile these reveries provided an outlet for his imagination; they were a satisfactory hint of the unreality of reality, a promise that the rock of the world was founded securely on a fairy's wing.

Through this twilight universe Daisy began to move again with the season; suddenly she was again keeping half a dozen dates a day with half a dozen men, and drowsing asleep at dawn with the beads and chiffon of an evening dress tangled among dying orchids on the floor beside her bed.