Zelda Fitzgerald Quotes

I felt an unrelenting restlessness. It was the first time I had ever experienced jealousy, and that emotion clung to my skin day and night like a dark stain, a contamination I could not shed; it became so unbearable that when finally I rid myself of it, I was freed forever of the desire to possess another person or the temptation ever to belong to anyone.

I suddenly had this really mad desire to have an affair with a woman. I was divorced. I was childless. I figured there's got to be one more way to really tick off my mom.

I would stay in my room for days, for days at times, just trying to get it together, to know what my next phase was going to be.

I wrote... Neon Ballroom in that time where I hated music, really everything about it, I hated it.

When I was in my 30s, I was at the end of a long-term relationship and going through a very hard time. I'd had about 15 different addresses and a series of relationships. I thought, 'It's time to have a look at yourself.'

I don't feel like a 40-year-old. I feel more like four 10-year-olds, each pulling in a different direction.

I have become a different person. I don't know whether this person is better, he certainly is not happier.

You are ugly when you love her, you are beautiful and fresh, vital and free, modern and poetic when you don't... you are more beautiful as an orphan than as your mother's son.

'Thursday' is a conceptual album. Whatever that situation was, I spent the whole album focusing on that situation.

By 30, I was separated from my husband, and I clearly remember sitting in my lovely office with a magnificent view, staring at a very lucrative pay stub, and bursting into tears because I was just miserable. So I had to make a decision: Keep following my plan, or be honest with myself and search for my true passion.

At 58, I knew I had to get a divorce. At that age, it's an almost impossible thing to go through. I had been married 33 years. I had been married for 33 years. I didn't know anything else.

When I reached my senior year in high school, I fell into a hole that took a couple of decades to get out of.

When I was a teenager, I was maybe a little bit angry.

'Supermodel' was a hard record for me; it was an emotional record to write. I was purging a lot of stuff with that album, and I think the one thing I didn't really consider, that I'd be supporting it for two years and living in that state of mind every night.

He tilted his head to the side, still watching me in that same, disconcerting way. “Some things are true, drunk or sober. You should know that. You deal in facts all the time.” “Yeah, but this isn’t—” I couldn’t argue with him looking at me like that. “I have to go. Wait… you didn’t take the cross.” I held it out to him. He shook his head. “Keep it. I think I’ve got something else to help center my life.

Whenever one finds oneself inclined to bitterness, it is a sign of emotional failure.

In fact, when I finally realized I was really going to write, when I was about thirty-four, I was working on my Ph.D. in Mathematics. I was just about to earn my Master's along the way, but I knew something was wrong because I found myself crying all the time.

I didn't want to be alone, but I had to learn that the dimensions of my feelings are too violent. I had to learn this.

As long as the wrong feels right - it's like I'm in flight.

I felt like I was literally losing myself as being the joyful, spiritual, passionate, exciting woman that I naturally had been.

She was at that crucial age when a women begins to regret having stayed faithful to a husband she never really loved, when the glowing sunset colors of her beauty offer her one last, urgent choice between maternal and feminine love. At such a moment a life that seemed to have chosen its course long ago is questioned once again, for the last time the magic compass needle of the will hovers between final resignation and the hope of erotic experience.

She was feeling, thinking, trembling about everything; agitated, happy, miserable, infinitely obliged, absolutely angry.

In one moment I was feeling everything and I was feeling nothing.

Then I fall asleep with a stupid feeling of wishing to be different from what I am or from what I want to be; perhaps to behave differently from the way I want to behave or do behave.

It is the place of feeling that binds us or frees us.