According to Nick, what was Gatsby looking at the night Nick first saw him?
A fellow from Minnesota who has come to New York after graduating Yale and fighting in World State of war I, Nick is the neighbor of Jay Gatsby and the cousin of Daisy Buchanan. The narrator of The Dandy Gatsby, Nick describes himself as "1 of the few honest people that [he has] ever known." Nick views himself as a man of "infinite hope" who tin can see the best side of everyone he encountered. Nick sees past the veneer of Gatsby's wealth and is the but character in the novel who truly cares about Gatsby. In watching Gatsby's story unfold, Nick becomes a critic of the Roaring Twenties excess and abandon that carries on all around him.
Nick Carraway Quotes in The Nifty Gatsby
The The Great Gatsby quotes beneath are all either spoken by Nick Carraway or refer to Nick Carraway. For each quote, you tin likewise see the other characters and themes related to it (each theme is indicated by its ain dot and icon, similar this one:
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In my younger and more vulnerable years my begetter gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my heed e'er since.
"Whenever yous feel like criticizing whatsoever i," he told me, "just call back that all the people in this globe haven't had the advantages that you've had."
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He stretched out his arms toward the night water in a curious mode, and, far as I was from him, I could accept sworn he was trembling. Involuntarily I glanced seaward – and distinguished nothing except a single dark-green light, infinitesimal and far abroad, that might take been the end of a dock.
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My family have been prominent, well-to-practice people in this middle-western urban center for three generations. The Carraways are something of a association and nosotros take a tradition that we're descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the actual founder of my line was my grandpa'due south brother who came here in l-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale hardware business that my father carries on today. […] Instead of beingness the warm centre of the world the eye-west now seemed similar the ragged edge of the universe—so I decided to get east and learn the bail business.
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Her husband, amidst various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven—a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterward savors of anti-climax. […] They had spent a yr in France, for no detail reason, then drifted hither and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together. This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, only I didn't believe it—I had no sight into Daisy's heart simply I felt that Tom would drift on forever seeking a picayune wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game.
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This is a Valley of Ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes have the forms of houses and chimneys and ascent smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who motion dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of gray cars crawls forth an invisible rails, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grayness men swarm upward with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your sight.
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But above the grey land and the spasms of dour dust which migrate incessantly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg. The eyes of Dr. T. J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are i grand high. They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellowish spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose. Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them at that place to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank downwards himself into eternal incomprehension or forgot them and moved away. But his eyes, dimmed a lilliputian by many paintless days under lord's day and pelting, brood on over the solemn dumping ground.
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He smiled understandingly—much more than understandingly. It was ane of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in information technology, that you may encounter four or v times in life. It faced—or seemed to face—the whole external world for an instant, so concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just equally far as you wanted to be understood, believed in y'all equally you would similar to believe in yourself, and assured y'all that it had precisely the impression of you lot that, at your best, you hoped to convey.
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On cafe tables, garnished with glistening hors d'oeuvre, spiced baked hams crowded against salads of harlequin designs and pastry pigs and turkeys bewitched to a dark gilt. In the principal hall a bar with a real brass rail was set up, and stocked with gins and liquors and with cordials then long forgotten that virtually of his female guests were too young to know one from another.
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On a chance we tried an important-looking door, and walked into a loftier Gothic library, panelled with carved English oak, and probably transported complete from some ruin overseas. A stout, middle-anile human being with enormous owl-eyed glasses was sitting somewhat drunk on the border of a dandy tabular array, staring with unsteady concentration at the shelves of books. Equally we entered he wheeled excitedly around […].
"[…] They're real."
"The books?"
He nodded.
"Admittedly real—accept pages and everything. I thought they'd be a nice durable cardboard. Matter of fact, they're absolutely real. Pages and—Hither! Lemme show you."
[…]
"See!" he cried triumphantly. "It's a bona fide piece of printed affair. It fooled me. This fella'south a regular Belasco. It'south a triumph. What thoroughness! What realism!"
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"I am the son of some wealthy people in the middle-west—all dead now. I was brought upwards in America but educated at Oxford because all my ancestors take been educated at that place for many years. Information technology is a family tradition."
He looked at me sideways—and I knew why Jordan Bakery had believed he was lying. He hurried the phrase "educated at Oxford," or swallowed information technology or high-strung on it as though it had bothered him before. And with this doubt his whole statement fell to pieces and I wondered if in that location wasn't something a little sinister nigh him after all.
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"Meyer Wolfshiem? No, he'south a gambler." Gatsby hesitated, and so added coolly: "He's the man who fixed the World'south Series back in 1919."
"Stock-still the World's Serial?" I repeated.
The idea staggered me. I remembered of grade that the World's Series had been fixed in 1919 but if I had thought of it at all I would accept idea of it as a thing that but HAPPENED, the finish of some inevitable concatenation. Information technology never occurred to me that ane man could start to play with the faith of l 1000000 people—with the single-mindedness of a burglar bravado a prophylactic.
"How did he happen to exercise that?" I asked after a minute.
"He just saw the opportunity."
"Why isn't he in jail?"
"They can't get him, old sport. He'south a smart man."
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"Why didn't he ask you to adapt a meeting?"
"He wants her to run across his house," she explained. "And your business firm is right adjacent door."
"Oh!"
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They were sitting at either terminate of the couch looking at each other every bit if some question had been asked or was in the air, and every vestige of embarrassment was gone. Daisy's face up was smeared with tears and when I came in she jumped upwards and began wiping at it with her handkerchief before a mirror. But there was a alter in Gatsby that was simply confounding. He literally glowed; without a give-and-take or a gesture of exultation a new well-existence radiated from him and filled the little room.
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"That huge place THERE?" she cried pointing.
"Do y'all like it?"
"I dearest it, only I don't see how you live there all alone."
"I go on it always full of interesting people, night and day. People who exercise interesting things. Celebrated people."
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We went upstairs, through period bedrooms swathed in rose and lavender silk and bright with new flowers, through dressing rooms and poolrooms, and bathrooms with sunken baths—intruding into one chamber where a dishevelled man in pajamas was doing liver exercises on the flooring.
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He hadn't one time ceased looking at Daisy and I think he revalued everything in his house according to the measure of response it drew from her well-loved eyes. Sometimes, likewise, he stared effectually at his possessions in a dazed way as though in her bodily and astounding presence none of information technology was any longer real. One time he nearly toppled downwardly a flight of stairs.
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"If information technology wasn't for the mist we could encounter your abode across the bay," said Gatsby. "You always have a light-green light that burns all nighttime at the stop of your dock."
Daisy put her arm through his abruptly but he seemed absorbed in what he had just said. Possibly it had occurred to him that the colossal significance of that low-cal had now vanished forever. Compared to the great altitude that had separated him from Daisy information technology had seemed very near to her, virtually touching her. Information technology had seemed as close as a star to the moon. Now it was once again a green calorie-free on a dock. His count of enchanted objects had macerated by i.
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Equally I went over to say bye I saw that the expression of bewilderment had come back into Gatsby's face up, as though a faint dubiety had occurred to him every bit to the quality of his present happiness. Almost five years! There must accept been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams—not through her ain fault but because of the jumbo vitality of his illusion. It had gone across her, beyond everything. He had thrown himself into it with a artistic passion, adding to information technology all the time, decking it out with every bright plume that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness tin can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly eye.
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The truth was that Jay Gatsby, of West Egg, Long Island, sprang from his Platonic conception of himself. He was a son of God—a phrase which, if it means annihilation, means just that—and he must be well-nigh His Begetter's business, the service of a vast, vulgar, and meretricious dazzler. And so he invented but the sort of Jay Gatsby that a seventeen twelvemonth old boy would be likely to invent, and to this formulation he was faithful to the end.
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"I wouldn't ask too much of her," I ventured. "You can't echo the past."
"Can't repeat the past?" he cried incredulously. "Why of form you lot can!"
He looked around him wildly, as if the by were lurking here in the shadow of his house, merely out of reach of his paw.
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For over a twelvemonth he had been beating his style along the south shore of Lake Superior equally a mollusk digger and a salmon fisher or in any other capacity that brought him food and bed. […]
A universe of ineffable gaudiness spun itself out in his encephalon while the clock ticked on the wash-stand and the moon soaked with wet calorie-free his tangled clothes upon the floor.
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"I wonder where in the devil he met Daisy. Past God, I may be old-fashioned in my ideas, only women run around too much these days to adapt me. They meet all kinds of crazy fish."
[…]
Tom was evidently perturbed at Daisy's running around alone, for on the following Saturday night he came with her to Gatsby's political party. Perhaps his presence gave the evening its peculiar quality of oppressiveness—it stands out in my memory from Gatsby's other parties that summer. At that place were the same people, or at least the same sort of people, the same profusion of champagne, the same many-colored, many-keyed mayhem, but I felt an unpleasantness in the air, a pervading harshness that hadn't been there before.
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"Who is this Gatsby anyhow?" demanded Tom all of a sudden. "Some big bootlegger?"
"Where'd you hear that"' I inquired.
"I didn't hear it. I imagined information technology. A lot of these newly rich people are just large bootleggers, you know."
"Not Gatsby," I said shortly.
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He wanted zippo less of Daisy than that she should get to Tom and say: "I never loved you." Afterward she had obliterated four years with that sentence they could decide upon the more than practical measures to be taken. One of them was that, after she was free, they were to go dorsum to Louisville and be married from her house—just as if it were v years ago.
"And she doesn't empathise," he said. "She used to be able to understand. We'd sit for hours—"
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"Her voice is total of money," he said all of a sudden.
That was it. I'd never understood before. It was full of money—that was the inexhaustible charm that rose and roughshod in it, the jingle of information technology, the cymbals' song of it.
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Information technology was when curiosity most Gatsby was at its highest that the lights in his house failed to go on one Saturday night—and, as obscurely as it had begun, his career as Trimalchio was over.
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"Oh, you desire too much!" she cried to Gatsby. "I love you at present—isn't that plenty? I can't help what's past." She began to sob helplessly. "I did dearest him in one case—only I loved yous too."
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"She'southward not leaving me!" Tom'due south words suddenly leaned down over Gatsby. "Certainly non for a common swindler who'd accept to steal the band he put on her finger."
[…]
"Who are you, anyhow?" broke out Tom. "You lot're 1 of that bunch that hangs around with Meyer Wolfsheim—that much I happen to know. I've made a little investigation into your affairs—and I'll carry it farther tomorrow. […] I found out what your 'drug stores' were." He turned to us and spoke apace. "He and this Wolfsheim bought up a lot of side-street drug stores here and in Chicago and sold grain alcohol over the counter. That'due south 1 of his little stunts. I picked him for a bootlegger the first time I saw him and I wasn't far incorrect."
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"They're a rotten crowd," I shouted across the lawn. "You're worth the whole damn bunch put together."
I've always been glad I said that. It was the only compliment I ever gave him, because I disapproved of him from kickoff to terminate. Showtime he nodded politely, and then his face broke into that radiant and agreement smile, as if we'd been in ecstatic cahoots on that fact all the time.
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"Yous ought to go away," I said. "It's pretty certain they'll trace your car."
"Go away NOW, old sport?"
"Get to Atlantic City for a week, or up to Montreal."
He wouldn't consider it. He couldn't peradventure leave Daisy until he knew what she was going to do. He was clutching at some last hope and I couldn't deport to milkshake him free.
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Yet glorious might be his future equally Jay Gatsby, he was at present a penniless young human without a past, and at any moment the invisible cloak of his uniform might slip from his shoulders. And then he made the most of his time. He took what he could get, ravenously and unscrupulously—eventually he took Daisy one nevertheless Oct night, took her because he had no real correct to touch on her mitt.
He might take despised himself, for he had certainly taken her nether simulated pretenses. I don't mean that he had traded on his phantom millions, but he had deliberately given Daisy a sense of security; he let her believe that he was a person from much the same stratum equally herself—that he was fully able to take care of her. Equally a thing of fact he had no such facilities—he had no comfortable family unit standing backside him and he was liable at the whim of an impersonal authorities to exist blown anywhere most the world.
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They were careless people, Tom and Daisy—they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their coin or their vast abandon, or whatever it was that kept them together, and allow other people make clean upward the mess they had made.
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That'south my Middle West . . . the street lamps and sleigh bells in the frosty dark. . . . I see now that this has been a story of the Due west, after all—Tom and Gatsby, Daisy and Jordan and I, were all Westerners, and perhaps we possessed some deficiency in common which made us subtly unadaptable to Eastern life.
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And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt abroad until gradually I became enlightened of the old island hither that flowered one time for Dutch sailors' eyes—a fresh, light-green breast of the new world.... And as I sat at that place, heart-searching on the onetime, unknown earth, I thought of Gatsby's wonder when he first picked out Daisy's calorie-free at the end of his dock. He had come such a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed and then close he could inappreciably fail to grasp it. Merely what he did non know was that information technology was already behind him, somewhere in the vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the democracy rolled on nether the night.
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Gatsby believed in the green lite, the orgastic future that year by year recedes earlier us. It eluded us so, simply that's no thing—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms further.... And then one fine morning—And then we beat on, boats confronting the current, borne dorsum ceaselessly into the past.
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"Did you showtime him in business concern?" I inquired.
"Kickoff him! I made him."
"Oh."
"I raised him up out of nothing, right out of the gutter. I saw correct abroad he was a fine appearing, gentlemanly young man, and when he told me he was an Oggsford I knew I could use him good. I got him to bring together up in the American Legion and he used to stand high there. Right off he did some work for a client of mine upward to Albany. We were and so thick like that in everything—" He held upwards 2 bulbous fingers "—ever together."
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I shook hands with him; it seemed lightheaded not to, for I felt all of a sudden equally though I were talking to a child. Then he went into the jewelry store to buy a pearl necklace—or maybe only a pair of gage buttons—rid of my provincial squeamishness forever.
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Nick Carraway Character Timeline in The Not bad Gatsby
The timeline below shows where the character Nick Carraway appears in The Smashing Gatsby. The colored dots and icons signal which themes are associated with that appearance.
Nick Carraway, the novel's narrator and protagonist, begins The Smashing Gatsby past recounting a chip of... (full context)
For instance, Nick says that though he scorns everything Gatsby stood for, he withholds judgment entirely regarding him.... (full context)
In the summer of 1922, Nick, a Yale graduate, moves from his hometown in Minnesota, where his family unit has lived for... (full context)
Nick intends to get a bail salesman, a line of work he says that almost anybody... (full context)
Nick rents a house in West Egg, a Long Island suburb located straight across a bay... (total context)
...characterized by garish displays of wealth that the old money families find distasteful. For instance, Nick's small business firm (described as an "eye-sore") sits next to a mansion owned by Gatsby, a... (full context)
The master story begins when Nick, who, though he lives in West Egg has East Egg connections, drives over to E... (full context)
At dinner Nick meets Jordan Baker, a young professional golfer, who is beautiful but also seems constantly bored... (full context)
...has a phone call and leaves the room. Daisy follows quickly backside, and Hashemite kingdom of jordan tells Nick that the call is from Tom's mistress. The residue of dinner is awkward. As Nick... (full context)
Upon returning from dinner, Nick sees Jay Gatsby standing on his lawn and gazing out across Long Isle sound. Nick... (full context)
Nick describes a "waste land" betwixt West Egg and New York Urban center where the ashes from... (full context)
One 24-hour interval, as Tom and Nick ride a train from Long Island into the city, Tom gets off at a stop... (total context)
Tom, Myrtle, and Nick go to the apartment Tom keeps in New York City to carry his affair. Myrtle'due south... (total context)
The topic of conversation eventually turns to Nick's neighbor Gatsby. Catherine says she's afraid of Gatsby because she'southward heard that he's a relative... (full context)
Every Saturday dark, Gatsby throws incredibly luxurious parties at his mansion. Nick eventually receives an invitation. At the political party, he feels out of identify, and notes that... (full context)
Nick runs into Jordan Bakery at the political party. While spending fourth dimension with her, he observes all... (full context)
Nick and Hashemite kingdom of jordan make up one's mind to find their mysterious host, and wander into Gatsby's library. In that location they... (full context)
Afterwards, as Nick and Jordan sit down exterior watching the party, Nick strikes up a conversation with the man... (full context)
Gatsby also interests Nick because he remains apart from the political party, equally if his pleasure derives from observing the... (total context)
...to come up come across with Gatsby. She returns a while after from this meeting and tells Nick that she has just heard a story that is "the virtually amazing thing." (full context)
...adieu to Gatsby (who has to run off to receive a phone phone call from Philadelphia), Nick leaves the party. As he walks home, he sees a crowd gathered effectually an automobile... (full context)
Nick so describes his everyday life that summer to the reader: he wants information technology clear he... (full context)
Nick observes some drunken women on Gatsby's backyard discussing Gatsby'south mysterious identity, which includes all the... (full context)
Nick then describes accompanying Gatsby on a trip into the metropolis for lunch. They ride to... (full context)
For lunch they meet a business partner of Gatsby'southward named Meyer Wolfsheim. Wolfsheim tells Nick that Gatsby is a human being of "fine breeding" who would "never and so much as look... (full context)
On the way out of the restaurant, Nick sees Tom Buchanan and introduces him to Gatsby. Gatsby appears embarrassed and leaves the scene... (full context)
After lunch, Nick meets Jordan at the Plaza Hotel. She tells him the "amazing thing" that Gatsby had... (total context)
...He had hoped that the magnificent house would impress her and win dorsum her beloved. Nick realizes that the greenish light he saw Gatsby gazing at sits at the end of... (total context)
Later on returning from the city, Nick encounters Gatsby late at night on his front lawn. Gatsby seems nervous, and asks if... (full context)
...on the day of the meeting. Though it'southward raining he sends a human being to cut Nick's grass, and also makes sure Nick's business firm is full of flowers. Gatsby disappears just equally... (full context)
...and Daisy care for each other formally at first, and Gatsby's nerves threaten to overwhelm him. Nick leaves them alone for half an hour. When he returns they are blissfully happy. Gatsby... (full context)
Nick, meanwhile, privately wonders how Daisy tin peradventure fulfill Gatsby's idealized vision of her. Nick reflects... (full context)
...holds Daisy'south hand and she whispers something to him that seems to stir his emotions. Nick, sensing that they no longer realize he'due south there, leaves them, walking out alone into the... (full context)
Nick notes that newspaper reporters presently started to appear at Gatsby's home to attempt to interview... (full context)
For a few weeks, Nick doesn't meet Gatsby. So, ane afternoon, Gatsby turns up at his house. A few moments... (full context)
...next Saturday night, Tom and Daisy come to a political party at Gatsby's. The political party strikes Nick as particularly unpleasant. Tom is disdainful of the party, and though Daisy and Gatsby dance... (full context)
...that Daisy neither enjoyed the party nor understands the depth of his feelings for her. Nick reminds him that the past is impossible to repeat, only Gatsby disagrees. He says he... (total context)
Nick recalls a memory that Gatsby in one case shared with him about the outset time Gatsby kissed... (full context)
Gatsby'south firm becomes much quieter, and his political party's come to an finish. Nick visits, and learns that Gatsby ended the parties because he no longer needed them to... (full context)
On the hottest twenty-four hours of the summer, Daisy invites Nick and Gatsby to lunch with her, Tom, and Jordan. At one point, while Tom is... (full context)
Before they go out for the urban center, Nick and Gatsby accept a moment lone, in which they concord that Daisy is indiscreet. Gatsby... (full context)
...Gatsby'southward large yellowish car. Gatsby and Daisy travel lonely in Tom's coupe, while Tom drives Nick and Jordan. Information technology's clear Tom now knows well-nigh the affair betwixt Gatsby and Daisy. Gatsby's... (total context)
...and became physically ill upon discovering that his wife has been living a double life. Nick realizes that Wilson has figured out his wife is having an affair but doesn't know... (full context)
Nick notices the haunting eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg looming in the distance, then spots... (total context)
Nick remembers at that moment that the day is his thirtieth birthday. He says that a... (total context)
...a Greek human being who runs the java shop next to George Wilson's garage, and who, Nick, says, was the chief witness in the constabulary investigation: that afternoon, Michaelis saw Wilson sick... (total context)
The point of view shifts back to Nick: Tom, Nick, and Jordan arrive at the scene in their car. Both Tom and Wilson... (total context)
Tom, Jordan, and Nick bulldoze to the Buchanan'south house. Tom calls a taxi for Nick. Every bit Nick waits for... (full context)
Nick goes and checks on Daisy through the window, and sees Tom and Daisy sitting on... (full context)
Nick tells Gatsby everything is repose, but Gatsby still refuses to exit. Nick leaves him "watching... (total context)
Nick visits Gatsby for breakfast the next morning. Gatsby tells Nick that Daisy never came outside... (full context)
Gatsby and Nick cease breakfast. As they walk together, the gardener tells Gatsby he'due south going to bleed the... (total context)
At work that day, Nick falls asleep. The phone wakes him: it's Jordan. Their conversation quickly turns unpleasant and one... (full context)
Next, Nick relates what happened at Wilson's garage later on Myrtle'southward death. Wilson spent all night talking to... (total context)
...he was to be alerted if any phone telephone call came. None came. Later on that afternoon, Nick and some of Wolfsheim's men working at Gatsby's business firm discover Gatsby, shot dead in his... (full context)
It's at present two years later on and Nick is recounting his memories of the days soon after Gatsby'southward death. Wild rumors virtually Gatsby's... (full context)
Nick finds himself the primary contact for all matters relating to Gatsby because nobody else wanted... (full context)
...devastated past his son's death, who he believed was destined for great things. He asks Nick what his relationship was to Gatsby. Nick says they were close friends. (full context)
That night, Klipspringer calls. Nick tells him about the funeral. Only Klipspringer says he can't nourish considering he has to... (full context)
...place the next mean solar day. In an attempt to assemble more people to attend the service, Nick goes to New York to endeavor to recollect Wolfsheim in person. At his sketchy function,... (full context)
Nick returns to Gatsby's house for the funeral. Merely, Nick, Henry Gatz, and, to Nick'southward surprise,... (full context)
Nick now describes The Great Gatsby as a story of the West since many of the... (full context)
Nick goes to Jordan Baker's house to set things straight with her. She tells him she... (full context)
Later that Oct, Nick runs into Tom Buchanan on Fifth Avenue in New York. He refuses to shake Tom's... (full context)
On his last night in W Egg before moving dorsum home to Minnesota, Nick walks down to Gatsby'south beach and looks out over Long Isle sound. He wonders how... (full context)
Nick describes Gatsby as a believer in the hereafter, a man of promise and faith. He... (full context)
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