A southern moon is a sodden moon, and sultry. When it swamps the fields and the rustling sandy roads and the sticky honeysuckle hedges in its sweet stagnation, your fight to hold on to reality is like a protestation against… — Zelda Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
A vacuum can only exist, I imagine, by the things which enclose it. — Zelda Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
“Goodnight dear. If you were in my bed it might be the back of your head I was touching, where the hair is short,… — Zelda Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
I play the radio and moon about...and dream of Utopias where its always July the 24th 1935, in the middle of summer forever. — Zelda Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
All I want to be is very young always and very irresponsible and to feel that my life is my own-to live and be… — Zelda Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
I suppose all we can really share with people is a taste for the same kinds of weather. — Zelda Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
Millie Beggs, by the time she was forty-five, had become an emotional anarchist. — Zelda Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
“Everybody gives you belief for the asking,” she said to David, “and so few people give you anything more to believe in than your… — Zelda Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
“I love you anyway-even if there isn't any me or any love or even any life- I love you.” — Zelda Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
Look closer and you'll see something extraordinary, mystifying, something real and true. We have never been what we seemed. — Zelda Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
I can't read or sleep. Without hope or youth or money I sit constantly wishing I were dead. — Zelda Fitzgerald Copy Share Image
