I found myself on Gatsby’s side, and alone.

I hope something happens. I'm restless as the devil and have a horror of getting fat or falling in love and growing domestic.

I had a strong sudden instinct that I must be alone. I didn’t want to see any people at all. I had seen so many people all my life -- I was an average mixer, but more than average in a tendency to identify myself, my ideas, my destiny, with those of all classes that came in contact with. I was always saving or being saved -- in a single morning I would go through the emotions ascribable to Wellington at Waterloo. I lived in a world of inscrutable hostiles and inalienable friends and supporters.

Always willing to lend a helping hand to the one above him.

It is in the thirties that we want friends. In the forties we know they won't save us any more than love did.

Genius is the ability to put into effect what is on your mind.