Amory: I Love You. Rosalind: I Love

For Awhile After You Quit Keats All Other Poetry Seems To Be Only Whistling Or Humming.

Gatsby Turned Out All Right At The End; It Is What Preyed On Gatsby, What Foul Dust Floated In The Wake Of His Dreams That Temporarily Closed Out My Interest In The Abortive Sorrows And Short-winded Elations Of Men.

He Wanted People To Like His Mind Again-after Awhile It Might Be Such A Nice Place In Which To Live.

She Was A Mischief, And That Was A Satisfaction; No Longer Was She A Huntress Of Corralled Game

I Hope You Make The Best Of It. And I Hope You See Things That Startle You. I Hope You Feel Things You Never Felt Before. I Hope You Meet People With A Different Point Of View. I Hope You Live A Life You're Proud Of. If You Find That You're Not, I Hope You Have The Strength To Start All Over Again.