The content of this page was created by users. It has not been screened or verified by IMDb staff.
: I'd rather not be the polo player.
: I just remembered, today's my birthday. Tom Buchanan
: Happy birthday. Nick Carraway
: [narrating now
] Thirty. The promise of a decade of loneliness. The formidable stroke of 30 died away as Gatsby and Daisy drove on thought the cooling twilight - towards death.
: Daisy, can't you see who this guy is, with his house and his parties and his fancy clothes? He is just a front for Wolfsheim, a gangster, to get his claws into respectable folk like Walter Chase. Jay Gatsby
: The only respectable thing about you, old sport, is your money. Your money, that's it. Now I've just as much as you. That means we're equal. Tom Buchanan
: Oh, no. No. We're different. I am. They are.
[points to Daisy
] Tom Buchanan
: She is. We're all different from you. You see, we were born different. It's in our blood. And nothing that you do or say or steal... or dream up can ever change that. A girl like Daisy... Jay Gatsby
: [Knocks contents off bar-top & grabs Tom with a raised fist
] You shut up! Shut up! You shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Nick Carraway
] Gatsby looked, in that moment, as if he had... killed a man.
: [about Gatsby
] He's an Oxford man. Tom Buchanan
: Like hell he is, he wears a goddamn pink suit!
: That dog's a bitch!
: [looking at her bruised finger
] Oh, look. I hurt it. Tom did it. Oh, you did do it even if you didn't mean to. That's what I get for marrying a brute like you. A great hulking specimen of a man. Tom Buchanan
: I hate the word 'hulking'. Even in kidding. Daisy Buchanan