Francis Scott Fitzgerald: The Great Gatsby
She hinted in a murmur that the surname of the balancing girl was Baker.
(I've heard it said that Daisy's murmur was only to make people lean toward
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask his name when Jordan looked around
He smiled understandingly — much more than understandingly. It was
one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance[Beruhigung]
in it, that you may come across four or five times in life.
[The smile] understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood,
believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself and assured you
that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped
"At small parties there isn't any privacy."
At the enchanted[bezaubert] metropolitan twilight I felt a
haunting[sehnsüchtig; drückend, lastend] loneliness sometimes, and
felt it in others — poor young clerks who loitered[müßig
herumstehen, bummeln] in front of windows waiting until it was time for a
solitary restaurant dinner — young clerks in the dusk, wasting the most
poignant[heftig, eindringlich] moments of night and life.
"You're a rotten driver," I protested. "Either you ought to be more careful,
or you oughtn't to drive at all."
Benny McClenahan arrived always with four girls. They were never quite the same
ones in physical person but they were so identical one with another that it
inevitably semmed they had been there before.
pecunia non olet
Auf Deutsch: Geld stinkt nicht.
He paused. "I see you're looking at my cuff buttons."
Luckily the clock took this moment to tilt dangerously at the pressure of his head,
whereupon he turned and caught it with trembling fingers, and set it back in place.
Then he sat down, rigidly, his elbow on the arm of the sofa and his chin in his hand.
"It's stopped raining."
It was strange to reach the marble steps and find no stir[Bewegung] of bright dresses
in and out the door, and hear no sound but bird voices in the trees.
Outside the wind was loud and there was a faint flow of thunder along the Sound. [...]
It was the hour of a profound human change, and excitement was generating on the air.
His parents were shiftless and unsuccessful farm people — his imagination
never really accepted them as parents at all.
Then they[Daisy and Gatsby] sauntered over to my house and sat on the steps for half an hour while at her
request I remained watchfully in the garden: "In case there's a fire or a flood," she
explained, "or any act of God."
Daisy began to sing with the music in a husky, rhythmic whisper, bringing out a meaning
in each word that it had never had before and would never have again.
You can't repeat the past.
"She's got an indiscreet voice," I remarked. "It's full of —"
Wilson was so sick that he looked guilty, unforgivably guilty.
Daisy and Tom were sitting opposite each other at the kitchen table with a plate of cold
fried chicken between them and two bottles of ale. He was talking intently across the table
at her and in his earnestness his hand had fallen upon and covered her own. Once in a while
she looked up at him and nodded in agreement.
On the last afternoon before he went abroad he sat with Daisy in his arms for a long,
silent time. [...] Now and then she moved and he changed his arm a little and once he kissed
her dark shining hair. The afternoon had made them tranquil for a while as if to give them
a deep memory for the long parting the next day promised. They had never been closer in
their month of love nor communicated more profoundly one with another, than when she
brushed silent lips against his coat's shoulder or when he touched the end of her fingers,
gently, as though she were asleep.
I supposed there'd be a curious crowd around there all day with little boys searching
for dark spots in the dust and some garrulous[redselig] man telling over and over what had
happened until it became less and less real even to him and he could tell it no longer and
Myrtle Wilson's traig achievement was forgotten.
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before