The Great Gatsby

by F. Scott Fitzgerald

“I suppose she talks, and—eats, and everything.” “Oh, yes.” She looked at me absently. “Listen, Nick; let me tell you what I said when she was born. Would you like to hear?” “Very much.” “It’ll show you how I’ve gotten to feel about—things. Well, she was less than an hour old and Tom was God knows where. I woke up out of the ether with an utterly abandoned feeling, and asked the nurse right away if it was a boy or a girl. She told me it was a girl, and so I turned my

head away and wept. ‘all right,’ I said, ‘I’m glad it’s a girl. And I hope she’ll be a fool— that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.”

In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.

“This is an unusual party for me. I haven’t even seen the host. I live over there —” I waved my hand at the invisible hedge in the distance, “and this man Gatsby sent over his chauffeur with an invitation.” For a moment he looked at me as if he failed to understand. “I’m Gatsby,” he said suddenly. “What!” I exclaimed. “Oh, I beg your pardon.” “I thought you knew, old sport. I’m afraid I’m not a very good host.”

The officer looked at Daisy while she was speaking, in a way that every young girl wants to be looked at sometime, and because it seemed romantic to me I have remembered the incident ever since. His name was Jay Gatsby,

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.