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Adults understand this, intrinsically, marked as they are by the years, time wreathing them in layers: an onion growing round and waxy in the earth.
“Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”
‘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.’
They were at least agonizingly aware of the easy money in the vicinity and convinced that it was theirs for a few words in the right key.
“Self-control!” repeated Tom incredulously. “I suppose the latest thing is to sit back and let Mr. Nobody from Nowhere make love to your wife. Well, if that’s the idea you can count me out.… Nowadays people begin by sneering at family life and family institutions, and next they’ll throw everything overboard and have intermarriage between black and white.”
When anyone spoke to him he invariably laughed in an agreeable, colorless way. He was his wife’s man and not his own.
They were careless people, Tom and Daisy—they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.…
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