Sunday, December 27, 2015

Sunday Sentence: “Crazy Sunday” by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Simply put, the best sentence(s) I’ve read this past week, presented out of context and without commentary. This week, I’m going to cheat by picking two sentences from the same story by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I couldn’t decide which one was “best.”

It was Sunday—not a day, but rather a gap between two other days.

There she was, in a dress like ice-water, made in a thousand pale-blue pieces, with icicles trickling at the throat.

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