"A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling, and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea. (8)"
This may in fact be one of the most beautiful sentences I've ever read in my entire life, and here Fitzgerald is describing mere curtains blowing in a breeze. However, upon reading this colorful and poetic sentence, I am immediately intrigued to see what type of majestic creature I am about to be introduced to in the story. Only the most gorgeous and captivating of characters could own curtains that blow in the breeze, that twist up to the "wedding-cake" ceiling and the "wine" rug.
Another sentence:
His eyes gleamed with the brilliant blue of a spring morning sky, that had finally awoken from the frosted dreams of winter.
No comments:
Post a Comment