Fitzgerald first created this situation in This Side Of Paradise, a book to fall in love by, if ever there was one. As Rosalind and Amory fall in love . . .
. . . they were together constantly, for lunch, for dinner, and nearly every evening — always in a sort of breathless hush, as if they feared that any minute the spell would break and drop them out of this paradise of rose and flame. But the spell became a trance, seemed to increase from day to day; they began to talk of marrying in July — in June. All life was transmitted into terms of their love, all experience, all desires, all ambitions were nullified: ‘She’s life and hope and happiness, my whole world now.’ Read the rest of this entry »