December tumbled like a dead leaf from the calendar. Author: F. Scott Fitzgerald Copy Quote More from F. Scott Fitzgerald “She’s got an indiscreet voice,” I remarked. “It’s full of–” I hesitated.“Her vo…” “Well, there I was, way off my ambitions, getting deeper in love every minute, a…” “He was going to live in New York, and be known at every restaurant and café, we…” “Wilson shook his head. His eyes narrowed and his mouth widened slightly with th…”