6d1e729
|
It was not brilliant bull-fighting. It was only perfect bull-fighting.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
85f4beb
|
It came very fast and the sun went a dull yellow and then everything was gray and the sky was covered and the cloud came on down the mountain and suddenly we were in it and it was snow.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
1715b27
|
We went down the stairs to the cafe on the ground floor. I had discovered that was the best way to get rid of friends. Once you had a drink all you had to say was: "Well, I've got to get back and get off some cables," and it was done. It is very important to discover graceful exits like that in the newspaper business, where it is such an important part of the ethics that you should never seem to be working."
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
f03b55a
|
You can't get away from yourself by moving from one place to another.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
ccfcbbb
|
To understand is to forgive.
|
|
understanding
to-forgive
|
Ernest Hemingway |
82dffa0
|
For sale: baby shoes, never used.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
d2dd87b
|
After a while, when you are as ugly as I am, as ugly as women can be, then, as I say, after a while the feeling, the idiotic feeling that you are beautiful, grows slowly in one again. It grows like a cabbage. And then, when the feeling is grown, another man sees you and thinks you are beautiful and it is all to do over. Now I think I am past it, but it still might come. You are lucky, 'guapa', that you are not ugly
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
a2e8613
|
That was morality ; things that made you disgusted afterwards. No, that must be immorality. That was a large statement. What a lot of bilge I could think up at night. What rot ! I could hear Brett say it. What rot ! When you were with the English you got into the habit of using English expressions in your thinking.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
8c28f5f
|
Viva my husband who was Mayor of this town
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
5a1d9b7
|
That I am a foreigner is not my fault. I would rather have been born here.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
32b74cd
|
Spanish girls make wonderful wives. I've never had one so I know.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
bbe1240
|
I'm afraid of the rain because sometimes I see me dead in it.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
0a95a6c
|
Do you suppose it will always go on?" "No." "What's to stop it?" It will crack somewhere."
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
928dc04
|
How little we know of what there is to know.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
68a6e26
|
You did not have to like it because you understood it. He could beat anything, he thought, because no thing could hurt him if he did not care
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
ddc3ee3
|
If he lived by a lie he should try to die by it
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
eb8ffbe
|
So far, about morals, I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after and judged by these standards, which I do not defend, the bullfight is very normal to me because I feel very fine while it is going on and have a feeling of life and death and mortality and immortality, and after it is over I feel very sad but also very fine.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
c85a1a3
|
I remember the smell of the pines and the sleeping on the mattresses of beech leaves in the woodcutters' huts and the skiing through the forest following the tracks of hares and of foxes. In the high mountains above the tree line I remember following the track of a fox until I came in sight of him and watching him stand with his right forefoot raised and then go carefully to stop and then pounce, and the whiteness and the clutter of a ptarm..
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
c6d8234
|
Half a million dead wops And he got a kick out of it The son of a bitch.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
0550fb8
|
He had destroyed his talent by not using it, by betrayals of himself and what he believed in, by drinking so much that he blunted the edge of his perceptions, by laziness, by sloth, and by snobbery, by pride and by prejudice, by hook and by crook. What was this? A catalogue of old books? What was his talent anyway? It was a talent all right but instead of using it, he had traded on it. It was never what he had done, but always what he could..
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
9d72e1c
|
It was not her fault that when he went to her he was already over
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
52e90bd
|
You're going to have things to repent, boy,' Mr. John had told Nick. 'That's one of the best things there is. You can always decide whether to repent them or not. But the thing is to have them.
|
|
nick-adams
repent
sin
|
Ernest Hemingway |
354fef4
|
I always worked until I had something done and I always stopped when I knew what was going to happen next. That way I could be sure of going on the next day. But sometimes when I was starting a new story and I could not get it going, I would sit in front of the fire and squeeze the peel of the little oranges into the edge of the flame and watch the sputter of blue that they made. I would stand and look out over the roofs of paris and think,..
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
31ef31c
|
The old man's head was clear and good now and he was full of resolution but he had little hope. It was too good to last, he thought. He took one look at the great fish as he watched the shark close in.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
1b75957
|
He held her close and hard and inside himself he said goodbye and then goodbye and goodbye.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
146711a
|
Maera lay still, his head on his arms, his face in the sand. He felt warm and sticky from the bleeding. Each time he felt the horn coming. Sometimes the bull only bumped him with his head. Once the horn went all the way through him and he felt it go into the sand. Some one had the bull by the tail. They were swearing at him and flopping the cape in his face. Then the bull was gone. Some men picked Maera up and started to run with him toward..
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
8eea49d
|
dh wtk lHZ bm fyh lkfy@ lt`ysh fy brys w'nt shb, fn dhkrh stbq~ m`k 'ynm dhhbt Twl Hytk, l'n brys wlym@ mtnql@"."
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
9a9ca45
|
Then he began to pity the great fish that he had hooked. He is wonderful and strange and who knows how old he is, he thought.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
8ce4366
|
They are not sorrows, so much as terrible things.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
1e61181
|
Age is my alarm clock," the old man said. "Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?"
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
a0c4161
|
I don't have to be proud of it. I only have to do it well." - Thomas Hudson"
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
4a1d5c2
|
All supposed exterior signs of danger that a bull gives, such as pawing the ground, threatening with his horns, or bellowing are forms of bluffing. They are warnings given in order that combat may be avoided if possible. The truly brave bull gives no warning before he charges except the fixing of his eye on the enemy, the raising of the crest of muscle in his neck, the twitching of an ear, and, as he charges, the lifting of his tail.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
64dd110
|
He lay there and felt something and then her hand holding him and searching lower and he helped with his hands and then lay back in the dark and did not think at all and only felt the weight and the strangeness inside and she said, "Now you can't tell who is who can you?" "No." "You are changing," she said. "Oh you are. You are. Yes you are and you're my girl Catherine. Will you change and be my girl and let me take you?" "You're Catherine...
|
|
erotic-game
gender-play
role-reversal
threesome
sapphic
|
Ernest Hemingway |
107952a
|
This is the second day now that I do not know the result of the juegos he thought. But I must have confidence and I must be worthy of the great DiMaggio who does all things perfectly even with the pain of the bone spur in his heel.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
21acdbe
|
He spat into the ocean and said, "Eat that, galanos. And make a dream you've killed a man."
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
0c1df66
|
For luck you carried a horse chestnut and a rabbit's foot in your right pocket. The fur had been worn off the rabbit's foot long ago and the bones and the sinews were polished by the wear. The claws scratched in the lining of your pocket and you knew your luck was still there.
|
|
paris
luck
|
Ernest Hemingway |
82d2e22
|
And we'll never love anyone else but each other.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
64f8b68
|
Then I started to think in Lipp's about when I had first been able to write a story about losing everything. It was up in Cortina d'Ampezzo when I had come back to join Hadley there after the spring skiing which I had to interrupt to go on assignment to Rhineland and the Ruhr. It was a very simple story called 'Out of Season' and I had omitted the real end of it which was that the old man hanged himself. This was omitted on my new theory th..
|
|
writing-process
|
Ernest Hemingway |
137c0b5
|
He had been contemptuous of those who wrecked. You did not have to like it because you understood it. He could beat anything, he thought, because no thing could hurt him if he did not care. All right. Now he would not care for death. One thing he had always dreaded was the pain. He could stand pain as well as any man, until it went on too long, and wore him out, but here he had something that had hurt frightfully and just when he had felt i..
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
6ac5cf5
|
There was nothing to do about him. It was Easter Sunday and the Fascists were advancing toward the Ebro. It was a gray overcast day with a low ceiling so their planes were not up. That and the fact that cats know how to look after themselves was all the good luck that old man would ever have.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
723632f
|
In the fall the war was always there, but we did not go to it anymore.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
c4b6bc3
|
Why do they have to be such damned fanatics? We chased good and we will always fight. But I hope we are not fanatics.
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |
080da54
|
How would that premise stand up if he examined it? That was probably why the Communists were always cracking down on Bohemiansism. When you were drunk or when you committed adultery you recognised your own personal fallability of that so mutable substitute for the apostles' creed, the party line. Down with Bohemianism, the sin of Majakowski.
|
|
religion
drink
morals
communism
|
Ernest Hemingway |
dc500b3
|
Tell him I think writing is lousy," Bill said. "Go on, tell him. Tell him I'm ashamed of being a writer."
|
|
|
Ernest Hemingway |