Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.
Zelda FitzgeraldRead
Scott-there's nothing in the world I want but you-and your precious love. All the material things are nothing. I'd just hate to live in a sordid, colorless existence-because you'd soon love less-and less-and I'd do anything-anything-to keep your heart for my own-I don't want to live-I want to love first and live incidentally.
Interpretation
The quote emphasizes the importance of love over material possessions in life.
In this quote, Zelda Fitzgerald expresses a deep yearning for love, prioritizing it above all material desires. She conveys that a life devoid of love would be bleak and unfulfilling, illustrating that genuine emotional connections are what give life meaning and vibrancy.
In practice
Using this quote in a wedding speech to emphasize the power of love.
Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.
She refused to be bored chiefly because she wasn't boring.
The night you gave me my birthday party... you were a young Lieutenant and I was a fragrant phantom, wasn't I? And it was a radiant night, a night of soft conspiracy and the trees agreed that it was all going to be for the best.
A southern moon is a sodden moon, and sultry. When it swamps the fields and the rustling sandy roads and the sticky honeysuckle hedges in its sweet stagnation, your fight to hold on to reality is like a protestation against a first waft of ether.
There seemed to be some heavenly support beneath his shoulder blades that lifted his feet from the ground in ecstatic suspension, as if he secretly enjoyed the ability to fly but was walking as a compromise to convention.
I remember every single spot of light that ever gouged a shadow beside your bones.
Unless we make Christmas an occasion to share our blessings, all the snow in Alaska won't make it 'white'.
I have nothing more to give you than my heart. Spanish saying Hearts are not to be had as a gift hearts are to be earned.
If he were less well trained, and less careful, he would say hate. But he can’t say it; it is too close to passion, and passion is too close to love, and love is amor deliria nervosa, the deadliest of all deadly things: It is the reason for the games of pretend, for the secret selves, for the spasms in the throat.
What's to come is still unsure: In delay there lies no plenty; Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure.
What men call love is a very small, restricted, feeble thing compared with this ineffable orgy, this divine prostitution of the soul giving itself entire, all its poetry and all its charity, to the unexpected as it comes along, to the stranger as he passes.
No rest without love, no sleep without dreams of love- be mad or chill obsessed with angels or machines, the final wish is love -cannot be bitter, cannot deny, cannot withhold if denied: the weight is too heavy
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