As favorite sentences hit my inbox last week, themes of loss and regret, and of hope and optimism, emerged.
And, to me, merged.
Fred Keller of Edina nominated the last line of "The Great Gatsby" by St. Paul native F. Scott Fitzgerald: "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
Alliteration propels that line, as it expresses a yearning for a do-over in life.
Citing the Amor Towles novel "A Gentleman in Moscow," Carl Stahlmann of Greenfield wrote: "The very last line, if a novel can be known by its last, made me wonder if perhaps he wrote it first."
That line: "And there in the corner, at a table for two, her hair tinged with grey, the willowy woman waited."
That mood reminded me of the last line of Ernest Hemingway's World War I novel "A Farewell to Arms," whose central character has just seen the body of his lover, who died in childbirth: "After a while I went out and left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain."
Hemingway reportedly rewrote that line 39 times until he was satisfied.