I have often told you that I am that little fish who swims about under a shark and, I believe, lives indelicately on its offal. Anyway, that is the way I am. Life moves over me in a vast black shadow and I swallow whatever it drops with relish, having learned in a very hard school that one cannot be both a parasite and enjoy self-nourishment without moving in worlds too fantastic for even my disordered imagination to people with meaning.
We don't have a biography.
This is from a letter Zelda Fitzgerald wrote to Scott Fitzgerald shortly after her breakdown (early March 1932). You can find it in the book, Dear Scott, Dearest Zelda: The Love Letters of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald on page 154.