“I couldn’t forgive him or like him, but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified. It was all very careless and confused. They were careless people, Tom and Daisy—they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.”

Every time this occurs to me the rational part of me considers it a cautionary tale, yet another part of me full of romanticizem and infinite hope, considers this only as a love story gone tragically wrong.