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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald: his cocktails and his flowers. "One time he killed a man who had found out
that he was nephew to Von Hindenburg and second cousin to the devil.
Reach me a rose, honey, and pour me a last drop into that there crystal
glass."
Once I wrote down on the empty spaces of a time-table the names
of those who came to Gatsby's house that summer. It is an old time-table
now, disintegrating at its folds, and headed "This schedule in effect
July 5th, 1922." But I can still read the gray names, and they will give
you a better impression than my generalities of those who accepted
Gatsby's hospitality and paid him the subtle tribute of knowing nothing
whatever about him.
The Great Gatsby |
