“Most of the big shore places were closed now and there was hardly any lights except the shadowy, moving glow of a ferryboat across the Sound. And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors’ eyes - a fresh, green breast of the new world. It’s vanished trees … had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent … face to face for the last time in history with with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
