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, stretch out our arms farther… And one fine morning - So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
♚ you think i don’t want to smash things? i know what that anger is more than you can imagine. <…> every time i think of her pinned down like that, i strangle her, francis. so she doesn’t strangle me. i have to. we have to. the alternative is – it’s u n l i v a b l e.
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