Don't be so anxious about it,' she laughed. 'I'm not used to being loved. I wouldn't know what to do; I never got the trick of it.' She looked down at him, shy and fatigued. 'So here we are. I told you years ago that I had the makings of Cinderella.' He took her hand; she drew it back instinctively and then replaced it in his. 'Beg your pardon. Not even used to being touched. But I'm not afraid of you, if you stay quiet and don't move suddenly.
She had an air of seeming to wait, as if for a man to get through with something more important than herself, a battle or an operation, during which he must not be hurried or interfered with. When the man had finished she would be waiting, without fret or impatience, somewhere on a highstool, turning the pages of a newspaper.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects a woman's patience and support for a man engaged in important tasks, highlighting selflessness in relationships.
F. Scott Fitzgerald's quote illustrates the dynamics of relationships where one partner may adopt a supportive, patient role while the other is engaged in significant endeavors. It emphasizes the beauty of selflessness and understanding in relationships, suggesting that love often involves waiting without expectation and holding space for another's responsibilities. The woman's demeanor embodies a quiet strength and dedication, portraying a balance of devotion and independence that can exist even in seemingly passive situations.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
This quote can inspire conversations about the importance of patience in romantic relationships at a relationship seminar.
More from F. Scott Fitzgerald
All quotes →The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function.
It was about then [1920] that I wrote a line which certain people will not let me forget: "She was a faded but still lovely woman of twenty-seven."
The words seemed to bite physically into Gatsby.
But you can love more than just one person, can't you?
A sudden gust of rain blew over them and then another - as if small liquid clouds were bouncing along the land. Lightning entered the sea far off and the air blew full of crackling thunder. The table cloths blew around the pillars. They blew and blew and blew. The flags twisted around the red chairs like live things, the banners were ragged, the corners of the table tore off through the burbling billowing ends of the cloths.
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I'm not that complicated. My complications come out in my songs. All you need to do to be my friend is like me.