Scott Fitzgerald

"Su talento era tan natural como el dibujo que forma el polvillo en un ala de mariposa. Hubo un tiempo en que él no se entendía a sí mismo como no se entiende la mariposa, y no se daba cuenta cuando su talento estaba magullado o estropeado. Más tarde tomó consciencia de sus vulnerables alas y de cómo estaban hechas, y aprendió a pensar pero no supo ya volar, porque había perdido el amor al vuelo y no sabía hacer más que recordar los tiempos en que volaba sin esfuerzo."

Ernest Hemingway, sobre Scott Fitzgerald, en Paris era una fiesta (A moveable feast, 1964).

"And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby´s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy´s dock. 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.
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that´s no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, strech out our arms farther... And one fine morning -
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

F.Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1925).

"There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice."

F.Scott Fitzgerald

"Writers aren't people exactly. Or, if they're any good, they're a whole lot of people trying so hard to be one person. It's like actors, who try so pathetically not to look in mirrors. Who lean backward trying - only to see their faces in the reflecting chandeliers."

F.Scott Fitzgerald, The Last Tycoon (1941).