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Survival, With Honor, That Outmoded And All-important Word, Is As Difficult As Ever And As All-important To A Writer. Those Who Do Not Last Are Always More Beloved Since No One Has To See Them In Their Long, Dull, Unrelenting, No-quarter-given-and-no-quarter-received, Fights That They Make To Do Something As They Believe It Should Be Done Before They Die. Those Who Die Or Quit Early And Easy And With Every Good Reason Are Preferred Because They Are Understandable And Human. Failure And Well-disguised Cowardice Are More Human And More Beloved.

-Ernest Hemingway

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Survival, With Honor, That

Ernest Hemingway

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Survival, With Honor, That Outmoded And All-important Word, Is As Difficult As Ever And As All-important To A Writer. Those Who Do Not Last Are Always More Beloved Since No One Has To See Them In Their Long, Dull, Unrelenting, No-quarter-given-and-no-quarter-received, Fights That They Make To Do Something As They Believe It Should Be Done Before They Die. Those Who Die Or Quit Early And Easy And With Every Good Reason Are Preferred Because They Are Understandable And Human. Failure And Well-disguised Cowardice Are More Human And More Beloved.

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But Man Is Not Made For Defeat. A Man Can Be Destroyed But Not Defeated.

It's A Town You Come To For A Short Time.

Failure And Well-disguised Cowardice Are More Human And More Beloved.

They Arrested Us After Breakfast.

In The Spring Mornings I Would Work Early While My Wife Still Slept. The Windows Were Open Wide And The Cobbles Of The Street Were Drying After The Rain.

That Seemed To Handle It. That Was It. Send A Girl Off With One Man. Introduce Her To Another To Go Off With Him. Now Go And Bring Her Back. And Sign The Wire With Love. That Was It All Right. I Went In To Lunch.

Now I Am Depressed Myself,' I Said. 'that's Why I Never Think About These Things. I Never Think And Yet When I Begin To Talk I Say The Things I Have Found Out In My Mind Without Thinking.

Most People Are Heartless About Turtles Because A Turtle's Heart Will Beat For Hours After He Has Been Cut Up And Butchered. But The Old Man Thought, I Have Such A Heart Too And My Feet And Hands Are Like Theirs.

Having Books Published Is Very Destructive To Writing.

It's None Of Their Business That You Have To Learn How To Write. Let Them Think You Were Born That Way.

A Man Does Not Exist Until He Is Drunk.

I Was So Sentimental About You I'd Break Any One's Heart For You. My, I Was A Damned Fool. I Broke My Own Heart, Too. It's Broken And Gone. Everything I Believe In And Everything I Cared About I Left For You Because You Were So Wonderful And You Loved Me So Much That Love Was All That Mattered. Love Was The Greatest Thing, Wasn't It?

It Seemed Out Of Place To Think Of Consequences During The Fiesta.

I've Tried To Reduce Profanity But I Reduced So Much Profanity When Writing The Book That I'm Afraid Not Much Could Come Out. Perhaps We Will Have To Consider It Simply As A Profane Book And Hope That The Next Book Will Be Less Profane Or Perhaps More Sacred.

Your Blood Coagulates Beautifully.

Creation's Probably Overrated. After All, God Made The World In Only Six Days And Rested On The Seventh.

If The Book Is Good, Is About Something That You Know, And Is Truly Written, And Reading It Over You See That This Is So, You Can Let The Boys Yip And The Noise Will Have That Pleasant Sound Coyotes Make On A Very Cold Night When They Are Out In The Snow And You Are In Your Own Cabin That You Have Built Or Paid For With Your Work.

He Was Just A Coward And That Was The Worst Luck Any Many Could Have.

Madame, All Stories, If Continued Far Enough, End In Death, And He Is No True-story Teller Who Would Keep That From You.

For We Have Thought The Longer Thoughts And Gone The Shorter Way. And We Have Danced To Devils' Tunes, Shivering Home To Pray; To Serve One Master In The Night, Another In The Day.

The Questioners Had That Beautiful Detachment And Devotion To Stern Justice Of Men Dealing In Death Without Being In Any Danger Of It.

When You Give Power To An Executive You Do Not Know Who Will Be Filling That Position When The Time Of Crisis Comes.

Times Of Crisis

How Did We Go Bankrupt? Two Ways. Slowly, And Then All Of A Sudden.

One Cat Just Leads To Another." [letter From Finca Vigia, Cuba, To His First Wife, Elizabeth Hadley Richardson (1943).]

To Be Successful In Writing, Use Short Sentences.

And If There Is Not Any Such Thing As A Long Time, Nor The Rest Of Your Lives, Nor From Now On, But There Is Only Now, Why Then Now Is The Thing To Praise And I Am Very Happy With It.

Rest Of Your Life

You Know You’re Writing Well When You're Throwing Good Stuff Into The Wastebasket.

Wars Are Spinach. Life In General Is The Tough Part. In War All You Have To Do Is Not Worry And Know How To Read A Map And Co-ordinates.

It Is By Riding A Bicycle That You Learn The Contours Of A Country Best, Since You Have To Sweat Up The Hills And Coast Down Them. Thus You Remember Them As They Actually Are, While In A Motor Car Only A High Hill Impresses You, And You Have No Such Accurate Remembrance Of The Country You Have Driven Through As You Gain By Riding A Bicycle.

Life Is Pain, So Live It Up While You Can.

How Little We Know Of What There Is To Know. I Wish That I Were Going To Live A Long Time Instead Of Going To Die Today Because I Have Learned Much About Life In These Four Days; More, I Think Than In All Other Time. I'd Like To Be An Old Man To Really Know. I Wonder If You Keep On Learning Or If There Is Only A Certain Amount Each Man Can Understand. I Thought I Knew So Many Things That I Know Nothing Of. I Wish There Was More Time.

Personal Columnists Are Jackals And No Jackal Has Been Known To Live On Grass Once He Had Learned About Meat - No Matter Who Killed The Meat For Him.

I Was Always A Lonely Person When I Was With Everyone.

You Know Lots Of Criticism Is Written By Characters Who Are Very Academic And Think It Is A Sign You Are Worthless If You Make Jokes Or Kid Or Even Clown. I Wouldn't Kid Our Lord If He Was On The Cross. But I Would Attempt A Joke With Him If I Ran Into Him Chasing The Money Changers Out Of The Temple.

A Writer Can Be Compared To A Well. There Are As Many Kinds Of Wells As There Are Writers. The Important Thing Is To Have Good Water In The Well, And It Is Better To Take A Regular Amount Out Than To Pump The Well Dry And Wait For It To Refill.

There Are Two Kinds Of Stories, The Ones You Live And The Ones You Make Up. And Nobody Knows The Difference, And I Don't Ever Tell Which Is Which.

Never Write About A Place Until You're Away From It, Because It Gives You Perspective. Immediately After You've Seen Something You Can Give A Photographic Description Of It And Make It Accurate. That's Good Practice, But It Isn't Creative Writing.

Humility Is Not Disgraceful, And Carries No Loss Of True Pride.

Everything Is On Such A Clear Financial Basis In France. It Is The Simplest Country To Live In. No One Makes Things Complicated By Becoming Your Friend For Any Obscure Reason. If You Want People To Like You You Have Only To Spend A Little Money. I Spent A Little Money And The Waiter Liked Me. He Appreciated My Valuable Qualities. He Would Be Glad To See Me, And Would Want Me At His Table. It Would Be A Sincere Liking Because It Would Have A Sound Basis. I Was Back In France.

But Paris Was A Very Old City And We Were Young And Nothing Was Simple There, Not Even Poverty, Nor Sudden Money, Nor The Moonlight, Nor Right And Wrong Nor The Breathing Of Someone Who Lay Beside You In The Moonlight.

In War, One Cannot Say What One Feels.

The Real Reason For Not Committing Suicide Is Because You Always Know How Swell Life Gets Again After The Hell Is Over.

Fortunately I Have Never Learned To Take The Good Advice I Give Myself Nor The Counsel Of My Fears.

You Never Kill Any One That You Want To Kill In A War, He Said To Himself.

We Have Very Primitive Emotions,” He Said . “it's Impossible Not To Be Competitive. Spoils Everything, Though.

Everything That's Innocent To Us Is Crazy To Them.

But You Always Fall For Somebody Else And Then It's All Right. Fall For Them But Don't Let Them Ruin You.

A Writer Is Like A Gypsy. He Owes No Allegiance To Any Government. If He Is A Good Writer He Will Never Like Any Government He Lives Under. His Hand Should Be Against It And Its Hand Will Always Be Against Him.

All Things Truly Wicked Start From Innocence.

The Circus Is The Only Fun You Can Buy That Is Good For You.

The Fun Of Talk Is To Explore, But Much Of It And All That Is Irresponsible Should Not Be Written. Once Written You Have To Stand By It. You May Have Said It To See Whether You Believed It Or Not.

Intelligence Is So Damn Rare And The People Who Have It Often Have Such A Bad Time With It That They Get Bitter Or Propagandistic And Then It's Not Much Use.

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?

Don't You Drink? I Notice You Speak Slightingly Of The Bottle. I Have Drunk Since I Was Fifteen And Few Things Have Given Me More Pleasure.

Everyone Has His Own Conscience, And There Should Be No Rules About How A Conscience Should Function.

Never Mistake Motive For Action.

It Is Silly Not To Hope, Besides I Believe It Is A Sin." The Old Man And The Sea

When We Came Back To Paris It Was Clear And Cold And Lovely.

I Am One Of Those Who Like To Stay Late At The Cafe," The Older Waiter Said. "with All Those Who Do Not Want To Go To Bed. With All Those Who Need A Light For The Night." "i Want To Go Home And Into Bed." "we Are Of Two Different Kinds," The Older Waiter Said. He Was Now Dressed To Go Home. "it Is Not Only A Question Of Youth And Confidence Although Those Things Are Very Beautiful. Each Night. I Am Reluctant To Close Up Because There May Be Someone Who Needs The Cafe.

No One You Love Is Ever Truly Lost.

Write The Story, Take Out All The Good Lines, And See If It Still Works.

Retirement Is The Ugliest Word In The Language.

All Stories, If Continued Far Enough, End In Death.

I Think You Should Learn About Writing From Everybody Who Has Ever Written That Has Anything To Teach You

You Write A Book Like That You're Fond Of Over The Years, Then You See That Happen To It, It's Like Pissing In Your Father's Beer.

And This Was The Price You Paid For Sleeping Together.

Sleeping Together

The Sea Is The Same As It Has Been Since Before Men Ever Went On It In Boats.

There Is No Friend As Loyal As A Book.

Abstract Words Such As Glory, Honor, Courage, Or Hallow Were Obscene Beside The Concrete Names Of Villages, The Numbers Of Roads, The Names Of Rivers, The Numbers Of Regiments And The Dates.

What Is The Definition Of Guts? Grace Under Pressure.

When Spring Came, Even The False Spring, There Were No Problems Except Where To Be Happiest.

Always Stop For The Day While You Still Know What Will Happen Next.

The Fish Is My Friend Too...i Have Never Seen Or Heard Of Such A Fish. But I Must Kill Him. I Am Glad We Do Not Have To Try To Kill The Stars. Imagine If Each Day A Man Must Try To Kill The Moon, He Thought. The Moon Runs Away. But Imagine If A Man Each Day Should Have To Try To Kill The Sun? We Were Born Lucky; He Thought

If Two People Love Each Other There Can Be No Happy End To It.

But I Think The Great Dimaggio Would Be Proud Of Me Today.

Show The Readers Everything, Tell Them Nothing.

Wine Is One Of The Most Civilized Things In The World And One Of The Most Natural Things Of The World That Has Been Brought To The Greatest Perfection, And It Offers A Greater Range For Enjoyment And Appreciation Than, Possibly, Any Other Purely Sensory Thing.

Later He Had Seen The Things That He Could Never Think Of And Later Still He Had Seen Much Worse.

As In No Other Form Of Lute Or Combat, The Conditions Are Such; The Winner Takes Nothing, Neither His Ease, Nor His Pleasure, Nor Any Notion Of Glory, Nor If He Wins Far Enough, Will He Find Anything Within Himself.

Do Not Worry. You Have Always Written Before And You Will Write Now.

No One Should Be Alone In Their Old Age, He Thought.

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?

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.

War Is Not Won By Victory.

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.

It Is Appearances, Characteristics And Performance That Make A Man Love An Airplane, And They, Are What Put Emotion Into One. 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, And Men Who Love Them Are Faithful To Them Even Though They Leave Them For Others. A Man Has Only One Virginity To Lose In Fighters, And If It Is A Lovely Plane He Loses It To, There His Heart Will Ever Be.

Do Not Think About Sin, He Thought. There Are Enough Problems Now Without Sin. Also I Have No Understanding Of It.

Pound's Crazy. All Poets Are.... They Have To Be. You Don't Put A Poet Like Pound In The Loony Bin.

To Be A Successful Father... There's One Absolute Rule: When You Have A Kid, Don't Look At It For The First Two Years.

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.

Let’s Not Talk About How I Am. It’s A Subject I Know Too Much About To Want To Think About Anymore.

Mr. Barnes, It Is Because I Have Lived Very Much That Now I Can Enjoy Everything So Well

I Know The Night Is Not The Same As The Day: That All Things Are Different, That The Things Of The Night Cannot Be Explained In The Day, Because They Do Not Then Exist, And The Night Can Be A Dreadful Time For Lonely People Once Their Loneliness Has Started.

The One Who Is Doing His Work And Getting Satisfaction From It Is Not The One The Poverty Bothers.

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.

The Sinews Of War Are Five - Men, Money, Materials, Maintenance (food) And Morale.

'safety', The Wife Of Pablo Said. 'there Is No Such Thing As Safety. There Are So Many Seeking Safety Here Now That They Make A Great Danger. In Seeking Safety Now You Lose All.'

Survival, With Honor, That Outmoded And All-important Word, Is As Difficult As Ever And As All-important To A Writer. Those Who Do Not Last Are Always More Beloved Since No One Has To See Them In Their Long, Dull, Unrelenting, No-quarter-given-and-no-quarter-received, Fights That They Make To Do Something As They Believe It Should Be Done Before They Die. Those Who Die Or Quit Early And Easy And With Every Good Reason Are Preferred Because They Are Understandable And Human. Failure And Well-disguised Cowardice Are More Human And More Beloved.

No One Ever Stopped When They Were Winning.

Never Delay Kissing A Pretty Girl Or Opening A Bottle Of Whiskey

I Always Try To Write On The Principle Of The Iceberg. There Is Seven-eighths Of It Underwater For Every Part That Shows.

The Hard Part About Writing A Novel Is Finishing It.

You Must Be Prepared To Work Always Without Applause.

To Make War All You Need Is Intelligence. But To Win You Need Talent And Material.

This Was A Big Storm And He Might As Well Enjoy It. It Was Ruining Everything, But You Might As Well Enjoy It

I Was A Little Drunk. Not Drunk In Any Positive Sense But Just Enough To Be Careless.

I Was Blown Up While We Were Eating Cheese.

Farewell To Arms

And The Ones Who Would Not Make War? Can They Stop It?

I Don't Want To Be Your Friend, Baby. I Am Your Friend.

Yes, They Have More Money.

For Sale. Baby Shoes. Never Worn.

The People That I Liked And Had Not Met Went To The Big Cafes Because They Were Lost In Them And No One Noticed Them And They Could Be Alone In Them And Be Together.

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 Is Was All About.

Writing Is The Clumsy Attempt To Find Symbols For Wordlessness.

The Parody Is The Last Refuge Of The Frustrated Writer. Parodies Are What You Write When You Are Associate Editor Of The Harvard Lampoon. The Greater The Work Of Literature, The Easier The Parody. The Step Up From Writing Parodies Is Writing On The Wall Above The Urinal.

How Lazily The Sun Goes Down In Granada, It Hides Beneath The Water, It Conceals In The Alhambra!

Love Is Infinitely More Endurable Than Hate.

You Make Something From Things That Have Happened And From Things That Exist And From All Things That You Know And All Those You Cannot Know, And You Make Something Through Your Invention That Is Truer Than Anything True And Alive, And If You Make It Well Enough, You Give It Immortality.

My Training Was Never To Drink After Dinner Nor Before I Wrote Nor While I Was Writing.

Oh, Darling, You Will Be Good To Me, Won’t You? Because We’re Going To Have A Strange Life.

Ronda Is The Place Where To Go, If You Are Planning To Travel To Spain For A Honeymoon Or For Being With A Girlfriend. The Whole City And Its Surroundings Are A Romantic Set. ... Nice Promenades, Good Wine, Excellent Food, Nothing To Do.

Anglers Have A Way Of Romanticizing Their Battles With Fish.

All You Have To Do Is Write One True Sentence. Write The Truest Sentence That You Know.

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.

We're Always Lucky,' I Said And Like A Fool I Did Not Knock On Wood.

Shooting Gives Me A Good Feeling. It Is Faster Than Baseball And You Are Out On One Strike.

I Didn't Want To Kiss You Goodbye — That Was The Trouble — I Wanted To Kiss You Good Night — And There's A Lot Of Difference.

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.

There Are Only Three Sports: Bullfighting, Motor Racing, And Mountaineering; All The Rest Are Merely Games.

If He Wrote It, He Could Get Rid Of It. He Had Gotten Rid Of Many Things By Writing Them.

Anyone Who Says He Wants To Be A Writer And Isn't Writing, Doesn't.

I Would Take Anything I Love And Throw It Off The Highest Cliff You Ever Saw And Not Wait To Hear It Bounce.

I Write Description In Longhand Because That's Hardest For Me And You're Closer To The Paper When You Work By Hand, But I Use The Typewriter For Dialogue Because People Speak Like A Typewriter Works.

There Are Many Who Do Not Know They Are Fascists But Will Find It Out When The Time Comes.

It Was Like Certain Dinners I Remember From The War. There Was Much Wine, An Ignored Tension, And A Feeling Of Things Coming That You Could Not Prevent Happening. Under The Wine I Lost The Disgusted Feeling And Was Happy. It Seemed They Were All Such Nice People.

Everything That A Painter Did Or That A Writer Wrote Was A Part Of His Training And Preparation For What He Was To Do.

The Things Of The Night Cannot Be Explained In The Day, Because They Do Not Then Exist.

The Best Way Is Always To Stop When You Are Going Good And When You Know What Will Happen Next. If You Do That Every Day ... You Will Never Be Stuck. Always Stop While You Are Going Good And Don't Think About It Or Worry About It Until You Start To Write The Next Day. That Way Your Subconscious Will Work On It All The Time. But If You Think About It Consciously Or Worry About It You Will Kill It And Your Brain Will Be Tired Before You Start.

What Is Moral Is What You Feel Good After.

Ethics And Morals

There Is No Night Life In Spain. They Stay Up Late But They Get Up Late. That Is Not Night Life. That Is Delaying The Day. Night Life Is When You Get Up With A Hangover In The Morning. Night Life Is When Everybody Says What The Hell And You Do Not Remember Who Paid The Bill. Night Life Goes Round And Round And You Look At The Wall To Make It Stop. Night Life Comes Out Of A Bottle And Goes Into A Jar. If You Think How Much Are The Drinks It Is Not Night Life.

Do You Know How An Ugly Woman Feels? Do You Know What It Is To Be Ugly All Your Life And Inside To Feel That You Are Beautiful? It Is Very Rare.

Maybe...you'll Fall In Love With Me All Over Again." "hell," I Said, "i Love You Enough Now. What Do You Want To Do? Ruin Me?" "yes. I Want To Ruin You." "good," I Said. "that's What I Want Too.

Some Other Places Were Not So Good But Maybe We Were Not So Good When We Were In Them.

If A Writer Knows Enough About What He Is Writing About, He May Omit Things That He Knows. The Dignity Of Movement Of An Iceberg Is Due To Only One Ninth Of It Being Above Water.

And How Much Better To Die In All The Happy Period Of Undisillusioned Youth, To Go Out In A Blaze Of Light, Than To Have Your Body Worn Out And Old And Illusions Shattered.

Cowards Die A Thousand Deaths, But The Brave Only Die Once.

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, '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.' So Finally I Would Write One True Sentence, And Then Go On From There.

But Perhaps He Had Enough Animal Strength And Detached Intelligence That He Could Make Another Start.

The Whiskey Warmed His Tongue And The Back Of His Throat, But It Did Not Change His Ideas Any, And Suddenly, Looking At Himself In The Mirror Behind The Bar, He Knew That Drinking Was Never Going To Do Any Good To Him Now. Whatever He Had Now He Had, And It Was From Now On, And If He Drank Himself Unconscious When He Woke Up It Would Be There.

The Ocean Is Worth Writing About Just As Man Is.

It Is Very Bad For (an Artist) To Talk About How He (creates). It Is Not The (artist's) Province To Explain Or To Run Guided Tours Through The More Difficult Country Of His Work. It's None Of Their Business That You Had To Learn. Let Them Think You Were Born That Way.

When You Have Shot One Bird Flying You Have Shot All Birds Flying. They Are All Different And They Fly In Different Ways But The Sensation Is The Same And The Last One Is As Good As The First.

The Most Beautiful Fighting Machine I Have Ever Seen

They Wrote In The Old Days That It Is Sweet And Fitting To Die For One's Country. But In Modern War, There Is Nothing Sweet Nor Fitting In Your Dying. You Will Die Like A Dog For No Good Reason.

Don't Do What You Sincerely Don't Want To Do. Never Confuse Movement With Action.

Some Lived In It And Never Felt It But He Knew It All Was Nada Y Pues Nada Y Nada Y Pues Nada.

Work Every Day. No Matter What Has Happened The Day Or Night Before, Get Up And Bite On The Nail.

Worry A Little Bit Every Day And In A Lifetime You Will Lose A Couple Of Years. If Something Is Wrong, Fix It If You Can. But Train Yourself Not To Worry: Worry Never Fixes Anything.

You Won't Do Our Things With Another Girl, Or Say The Same Things, Will You?

Farewell To Arms

The World Breaks Everyone Or Nearly Everyone, Of Their Childish Illusions, Assumptions And Wishes, Often Painfully And Afterwards Due To The Personal Growth In Practical Experience, Insight And The Resulting Wisdom Many Are Strong At The Broken Places Just Like Mended Broken Bones Often Are, And Some People Even Have The Great Insight To Be Grateful For The Purifying Fire.

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.

No Catalogue Of Horrors Ever Kept Men From War. Before The War You Always Think That It's Not You That Dies. But You Will Die, Brother, If You Go To It Long Enough.

Enjoying Living Was Learning To Get Your Money's Worth And Knowing When You Had It.

You'll Lose It, If You Talk About It

In Those Days, There Was No Money To Buy Books.

For A True Writer Each Book Should Be A New Beginning, Where He Tries Again For Something That Is Beyond Attainment.

I Would Walk Along The Quais When I Had Finished Work Or When I Was Trying To Think Something Out. It Was Easier To Think If I Was Walking And Doing Something Or Seeing People Doing Something That They Understood.

Not The Why But The What.

The Cat Has Complete Emotional Honesty - An Attribute Not Often Found In Humans.

Work Could Cure Almost Anything

The Only Thing That Can Spoil A Day Is People And If You Can Keep From Making Engagements, Every Day Has No Limits.

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.

How Simple The Writing Of Literature Would Be If It Were Only Necessary To Write In Another Way What Has Been Well Written. It Is Because We Have Had Such Great Writers In The Past That A Writer Is Driven Far Out Past Where He Can Go, Out To Where No One Can Help Him.

When I Saw My Wife Again Standing By The Tracks As The Train Came In By The Piled Logs At The Station, I Wished I Had Died Before I Had Ever Loved Anyone But Her.

His (the Writer's) Standard Of Fidelity To The Truth Should Be So High That His Invention, Out Of His Experience, Should Produce A Truer Account Than Anything Factual Can Be.

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.

I Am So In Love With You That There Isn’t Anything Else.

No Weapon Has Ever Settled A Moral Problem. It Can Impose A Solution But It Cannot Guarantee It To Be A Just One.

My Only Regret In Life Is That I Did Not Drink More Wine.

It Is One Thing To Be In The Proximity Of Death, To Know More Or Less What She Is, And It Is Quite Another Thing To Seek Her.

After Writing A Story I Was Always Empty And Both Sad And Happy, As Though I Had Made Love.

Now Catherine Would Die. That Was What You Did. You Died. You Did Not Know What It Was About. You Never Had Time To Learn. They Threw You In And Told You The Rules And The First Time They Caught You Off Base They Killed You. Or They Killed You Gratuitously Like Aymo. Or Gave You The Syphilis Like Rinaldi. But They Killed You In The End. You Could Count On That. Stay Around And They Would Kill You.

Farewell To Arms

(world War I) Was The Most Colossal, Murderous, Mismanaged Butchery That Has Ever Taken Place On Earth. Any Writer Who Said Otherwise Lied, So The Writers Either Wrote Propaganda, Shut Up, Or Fought.

Defense Is The Stronger Form With The Negative Object, And Attack The Weaker Form With The Positive Object.

Writing Is A Hard Business...but Nothing Makes You Feel Better.

You See I'm Trying In All My Stories To Get The Feeling Of The Actual Life Across, Not Just To Depict Life, Or Criticize It, But To Actually Make It Alive.

The Great Artist When He Comes, Uses Everything That Has Been Discovered Or Known About His Art Up To That Point, Being Able To Accept Or Reject In A Time So Short It Seems That The Knowledge Was Born With Him, Rather Than That He Takes Instantly What It Takes The Ordinary Man A Lifetime To Know, And Then The Great Artist Goes Beyond What Has Been Done Or Known And Makes Something Of His Own.

No Good Book Has Ever Been Written That Has In It Symbols Arrived At Beforehand And Stuck In. ... I Tried To Make A Real Old Man, A Real Boy, A Real Sea And A Real Fish And Real Sharks. But If I Made Them Good And True Enough They Would Mean Many Things

There Is Nothing Else Than Now. There Is Neither Yesterday, Certainly, Nor Is There Any Tomorrow. How Old Must You Be Before You Know That? There Is Only Now, And If Now Is Only Two Days, Then Two Days Is Your Life And Everything In It Will Be In Proportion. This Is How You Live A Life In Two Days. And If You Stop Complaining And Asking For What You Never Will Get, You Will Have A Good Life. A Good Life Is Not Measured By Any Biblical Span.

All Modern American Literature Comes From One Book By Mark Twain Called Huckleberry Finn.

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.

At Night, Never Go To Bed Without Knowing What You'll Write Tomorrow.

A Person With Increasing Knowledge And Sensory Education May Derive Infinite Enjoyment From Wine.

Some People Show Evil As A Great Racehorse Shows Breeding. They Have The Dignity Of A Hard Chancre.

All Good Books Are Alike In That They Are Truer Than If They Really Happened And After You Are Finished Reading One You Feel That It All Happened To You And After Which It All Belongs To You.

God Knows I Didn't Mean To Fall In Love With Her

Falling In Love

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.

The World Is A Fine Place And Worth The Fighting For And I Hate Very Much To Leave It.

The First And Most Important Thing Of All, At Least For Writers Today, Is To Strip Language Clean, To Lay It Bare Down To The Bone.

Switzerland Is A Small, Steep Country, Much More Up And Down Than Sideways, And Is All Stuck Over With Large Brown Hotels Built On The Cuckoo Clock Style Of Architecture.

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Anne Bradstreet

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