Where do you start with this book?
Jay Gatsby’s desire for everything he isn’t, and everything he wants to be encapsulated in the shallow, vacuous heart of Daisy, the woman who destroys him?
Or maybe just the shirts scene?
Everytime I venture near Gatsby I fall in love with his desire; his hunger; his ambition. And it makes me incredibly sad.
I keep meaning to watch the movie, maybe I will someday, but the book is enough.