Ernest Hemingway Quotes
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I've seen you, beauty, and you belong to me now, whoever you are waiting for and if I never see you again, I thought. You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil.
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It was strange how easy being tired enough made it.
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Paris is so very beautiful that it satisfies something in you that is always hungry in America.
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His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings. At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred.
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But don't try to find an untroublesome woman. She will dull out on you. What makes a woman good in bed makes it impossible for her to live alone.
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I try not to borrow, first you borrow then you beg.
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My working habits are simple: long periods of thinking, short periods of writing.
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You are killing me, fish, the old man thought. But you have a right to. Never have I seen a greater, or more beautiful, or a calmer or more noble thing than you, brother.
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Listen now. When people talk listen completely. Don't be thinking what you're going to say. Most people never listen. Nor do they observe.
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The first panacea for a mismanaged nation is inflation of the currency; the second is war. Both bring a temporary prosperity; both bring a permanent ruin. But both are the refuge of political and economic opportunists.
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The thing is to become a master and in your old age to acquire the courage to do what children did when they knew nothing.
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Being against evil doesn't make you good. Tonight I was against it and then I was evil myself. I could feel it coming just like a tide... I just want to destroy them. But when you start taking pleasure in it you are awfully close to the thing you're fighting.
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Decadence is a difficult word to use since it has become little more than a term of abuse applied by critics to anything they do not yet understand or which seems to differ from their moral concepts.
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When you start to live outside yourself, it's all dangerous.
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I would stand and look out over the roofs of Paris and think, "Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.
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Auto racing, bull fighting, and mountain climbing are the only real sports... all the others are games.
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What difference does it make if you live in a picturesque little outhouse surrounded by 300 feeble minded goats and your faithful dog? The question is: Can you write?
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Summer is a discouraging time to work - you don't feel death coming on the way it does in the fall when the boys really put pen to paper.
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you can't get away from yourself by moving from one place to another.
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The further you go in writing the more alone you are. Most of your best and oldest friends die. Others move away. You do not see them except rarely, but you write and have much the same contact with them as though you were together at the café in the old days. You exchange comic, sometimes cheerfully obscene and irresponsible letters, and it is almost as good as talking. But you are more alone because that is how you must work and the time to work is shorter all the time and if you waste it you feel you have committed a sin for which there is no forgiveness.
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How little we know of what there is to know.
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He would lie in the bed and finally, with daylight, he would go to sleep. After all, he said to himself, it is probably only insomnia. Many must have it.
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He knew he would not be afraid. Even if he ever was afraid he knew that he could do it anyway.
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I don't feel any way,' the girl said. 'I just know things.