-
For her everything was red, orange, gold-red from the sun on the closed eyes, and it all was that color, all of it, the filling, the possessing, the having, all of that color, all in a blindness of that color." - Ernest Hemingway.
-
The bulls are my best friends." I translated to Brett. "You kill your friends?" she asked. "Always," he said in English, and laughed. "So they don't kill me.
-
Writing is the clumsy attempt to find symbols for wordlessness.
-
Never go on trips with anyone you do not love.
-
All bad writers are in love with the epic.
-
Because Fascism is a lie, it is condemned to literary sterility. And when it is past, it will have no history, except the bloody history of murder.
-
Now he would never write the things that he had saved to write until he knew enough to write them well. Well, he would not have to fail at trying to write them either. Maybe you could never write them, and that was why you put them off and delayed the starting. Well he would never know, now.
-
I say that is wine," Brett held up her glass. "We ought to toast something. 'Here's to royalty.'" "This wine is too good for toast-drinking, my dear. you don't want to mix emotions up with a wine like that. you lose the taste." Brett's glass was empty.
-
I've been in love (truly) with five women, the Spanish Republic and the 4th Infantry Division.
-
I am drunk, seest thou? When I am not drunk I do not talk. You have never heard me talk much. But an intelligent man is sometimes forced to be drunk to spend his time with fools.
-
It's a town you come to for a short time.
-
You ought to be ironical the minute you get out of bed. You ought to wake up with your mouth full of pity.
-
As to Hemingway, I read him for the first time in the early 'forties, something about bells, balls and bulls, and loathed it.
-
We think. We are not peasants. We are mechanics. But even the peasants know better than to believe in a war. Everybody hates war. There is a class that control a country that is stupid and down not realise anything and never can. That is why we have this war. Also they make money out of it.
-
As long as you can start, you are all right. The juice will come.
-
Bigotry is an odd thing. To be bigoted you have to be absolutely sure you are right and nothing makes that surety and righteousness like continence. Continence is the foe of heresy.
-
I suppose if a man has something once, always something of it remains.
-
We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright.
-
They can't yank a novelist like they can a pitcher. A novelist has to go the full nine, even if it kills him.
-
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.
-
Cowardice, as distinguished from panic, is almost always simply a lack of ability to suspend the functioning of the imagination.
-
You love a lot of things if you live around them, but there isn't any woman and there isn't any horse, nor any before nor any after, that is as lovely as a great airplane.
-
Up the road, in his shack, the old man was sleeping again. He was still sleeping on his face and the boy was sitting by him watching him. The old man was dreaming about the lions.
-
There are many who do not know they are fascists but will find it out when the time comes.