mother says that two souls are sometimes created together and — and in love before they're born. - F. Scott Fitzgerald

I’ve heard it said that Daisy’s murmur was only to make people lean toward her; an irrelevant criticism that made it no less charming.

I wanted to get out and walk eastward toward the park through the soft twilight, but each time I tried to go I became entangled in some wild, strident argument which pulled me back, as if with ropes, into my chair. 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... I saw him too, looking up and wondering. I was within and without.

There was a hint in the air that the earth was hurrying on toward other weather; the lush midsummer moment outside of time was already over.