Finished The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald for perhaps the 20th time. I had to revisit it just once more before seeing Baz Luhrmann's film adaptation. Every time I absorb Fitzgerald's prose I remember that he was my favorite author when I was in my 20s and a writer myself. This passage where Nick Caraway is describing Daisy is a perfect example why:
"For a moment the last sunshine fell with romantic affection upon her glowing face; her voice compelled me forward breathlessly as I listened – then the glow faded, each light deserting her with lingering regret, like children leaving a pleasant street at dusk."
I think perhaps it is the best book ever written.