Dear, don't think of getting out of bed yet. I've always suspected that early rising in early life makes one nervous.
Interpretation
The quote suggests that waking up early can induce anxiety and stress in young people.
F. Scott Fitzgerald's quote reflects on the pressures associated with early rising, particularly in youth. It indicates that the routine of getting up early can lead to a state of nervousness, perhaps due to the expectations and responsibilities that come with it. This can be seen as a critique of societal norms that glorify early rising, hinting that it might not always be beneficial for mental well-being.
In practice
During a discussion on work-life balance, one might quote Fitzgerald to emphasize the importance of sleep for mental health.
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.
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.
Sometimes it takes a wake-up call, doesn't it, to alert us to the fact that we're hurrying through our lives instead of actually living them; that we're living the fast life instead of the good life. And I think, for many people, that wake-up call takes the form of an illness.
I breakfast when I get up, lunch when I get the chance. If I never get it, I forget it. Sometimes I dine at seven, sometimes at midnight, sometimes not at all; and I never get to bed until four or five in the morning. Everything depends on the news; the hours make no difference to me.
You either ride life or it rides you. Your mental attitude determines who is 'rider' and who is 'horse.'
Each thing I do, I rush through so I can do something else. In such a way do the days pass - -a blend of stock car racing and the never ending building of a gothic cathedral. Through the windows of my speeding car I see all that I love falling away: books unread, jokes untold, landscapes unvisited.
Thy only authentic ending is the one provided here: John and Mary die, John and Mary die, John and Mary die.
I have two children who died before reaching 30, so who am I to complain about being alive?
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