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If you're looking for messages, try Western Union.
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I have a rotten habit of picturing the bedroom scenes of my friends.
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The sinews of war are five - men, money, materials, maintenance (food) and morale.
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Only that which makes you feel bad after doing is immoral.
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You know that fiction, prose rather, is possibly the roughest trade of all in writing. You do not have the reference, the old important reference. You have the sheet of blank paper, the pencil, and the obligation to invent truer than things can be true. You have to take what is not palpable and make it completely palpable and also have it seem normal and so that it can become a part of experience of the person who reads it.
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There were many words that you could not stand to hear and finally only the names of places had dignity. Abstract words such as glory, honor, courage, or hallow were obscene.
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[Never give up hope. Never give in to pessimism. Never despair.] No horse named Morbid ever won a race!
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An intelligent man is sometimes forced to be drunk to spend time with his fools.
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They were beaten to start with. They were beaten when they took them from their farms and put them in the army. That is why the peasant has wisdom, because he is defeated from the start. Put him in power and see how wise he is.
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I'm always reading books-as many as there are. I ration myself on them so that I'll always be in supply.
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The bicycle riders drank much wine, and were burned and browned by the sun. They did not take the race seriously except among themselves.
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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.
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To invent out of knowledge means to produce inventions that are true. Every man should have a built-in automatic crap detector operating inside him. It also should have a manual drill and a crank handle in case the machine breaks down. If you're going to write, you have to find out what's bad for you. Part of that you learn fast, and then you learn what's good for you.
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She was looking into my eyes with that way she had of looking that made you wonder whether she really saw out of her own eyes. They would look on and on after every one else's eyes in the world would have stopped looking. She looked as though there were nothing on earth she would not look at like that, and really she was afraid of so many things.
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I kept this to remind me of you trying to brush away the Villa Rossa from your teeth in the morning, swearing and eating aspirin and cursing harlots. Every time I see that glass I think of you trying to clean your conscience with a toothbrush.
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Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?
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But life isn't hard to manage when you've nothing to lose.
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The world was not wheeling anymore. It was just very clear and bright and inclined to blur at the edges.
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I wish I had died before I ever loved anyone but her.
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You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil.
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That every day should be a fiesta seemed to me a wonderful discovery.
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It's a town you come to for a short time.
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I know war as few other men now living know it, and nothing to me is more revolting. I have long advocated its complete abolition, as its very destructiveness on both friend and foe has rendered it useless as a method of settling international disputes.
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I've been in love (truly) with five women, the Spanish Republic and the 4th Infantry Division.