She was a mischief, and that was a satisfaction; no longer was she a huntress of corralled game
Interpretation
The quote reflects on a woman's playful nature and the joy it brings, suggesting a departure from traditional roles.
F. Scott Fitzgerald captures the essence of a woman's spirited and mischievous character in this quote. It suggests that her playful disposition brings satisfaction and freedom, contrasting her past identity as a 'huntress,' someone who might have hunted for more predictable, constrained experiences. Instead, she embraces mischief, indicating both choice and liberation, reveling in her own nature rather than conforming to societal expectations.
In practice
During a wedding toast, one might use this quote to emphasize the joy and freedom found in love.
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.
Eros seizes and shakes my very soul like the wind on the mountain _x000D_ shaking ancient oaks.
It is my wish that my ashes may repose on the banks of the Seine, in the midst of the French people, whom I have loved so well.
He loved her, of course, but better than that, he chose her, day after day. Choice: that was the thing.
Girl lithe and tawny, the sun that forms the fruits, that plumps the grains, that curls seaweeds filled your body with joy, and your luminous eyes and your mouth that has the smile of the water. A black yearning sun is braided into the strands of your black mane, when you stretch your arms. You play with the sun as with a little brook and it leaves two dark pools in your eyes.
Now they are a circle, and they vibrate together, they pulsate together. Their hearts are no longer separate, their beats are no longer separate, they have become a melody, a harmony. It is the greatest music possible, all other musics are just faint things compared to it, shadow things compared to it.
She was like a lone angel floating above the surface of the earth, laughing with delight because she could fly but crying out of loneliness.
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