Ernest Hemingway Quotes - Page 4 | Just Great DataBase

There isn't any me. I'm you. Don't make up a separate me.

You did not kill the fish only to keep alive and to sell for food, he thought. You killed him for pride and because you are a fisherman. You loved him when he was alive and you loved him after. If you love him, it is not a sin to kill him. Or is it more?

You won't do our things with another girl, or say the same things, will you?

Dying was nothing and he had no picture of it nor fear of it in his mind. But living was a field of grain blowing in the wind on the side of a hill. Living was a hawk in the sky. Living was an earthen jar of water in the dust of the threshing with the grain flailed out and the chaff blowing. Living was a horse between your legs and a carbine under one leg and a hill and a valley and a stream with trees along it and the far side of the valley and the hills beyond.

Oh, darling, I've been so miserable.

No animal has more liberty than the cat, but it buries the mess it makes. The cat is the best anarchist.

Nobody ever lives their life all the way up except bullfighters.

He'll never be frightened. He knows too damn much.

My life used to be full of everything. Now if you aren't with me I haven't a thing in the world.

No one should be alone in their old age, he thought.

Fish," he said, "I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.

I mistrust all frank and simple people, especially when their stories hold together

You are all a lost generation.[with credit to Gertrude Stein]

You know it makes one feel rather good deciding not to be a bitch." "Yes." "It's sort of what we have instead of God.

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 had gone to no such place but to the smoke of cafes and nights when the room whirled and you needed to look at the wall to make it stop, nights in bed, drunk, when you knew that that was all there was, and the strange excitement of waking and not knowing who it was with you, and the world all unreal in the dark and so exciting that you must resume again unknowing and not caring in the night, sure that this was all and all and all and not caring.

If we win here we will win everywhere. The world is a fine place and worth the fighting for and I hate very much to leave it.

And bed, he thought. Bed is my friend. Just bed, he thought. Bed will be a great thing. It is easy when you are beaten, he thought. I never knew how easy it was. And what beat you, the thought.

Perhaps as you went along you did learn something. I did not care what it was all about. All I wanted to know was how to live in it. Maybe if you found out how to live in it you learned from that what it was all about.

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.