... is a short novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald about the golden jazz age ... I am not sure if it was golden for Gatsby at the end, but we all have our own green light, the goal of our existences, the summation of our dreams ...
"And as I set there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby's wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy's dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in the vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter - tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther ... and one fine morning -
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
(the last line is engraved on the grave of Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda).
