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When I Am Working On A Book Or A Story I Write Every Morning As Soon After First Light As Possible. There Is No One To Disturb You And It Is Cool Or Cold And You Come To Your Work And Warm As You Write. . . .when You Stop You Are As Empty, And At The Same Time Never Empty But Filling, As When You Have E Made Love To Someone You Love. Nothing Can Hurt You, Nothing Can Happen, Nothing Means Anything Until The Next Day When You Do It Again. It Is The Wait Until The Next Day That Is Hard To Get Through.

-Ernest Hemingway

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When I Am Working

Ernest Hemingway

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When I Am Working On A Book Or A Story I Write Every Morning As Soon After First Light As Possible. There Is No One To Disturb You And It Is Cool Or Cold And You Come To Your Work And Warm As You Write. . . .when You Stop You Are As Empty, And At The Same Time Never Empty But Filling, As When You Have E Made Love To Someone You Love. Nothing Can Hurt You, Nothing Can Happen, Nothing Means Anything Until The Next Day When You Do It Again. It Is The Wait Until The Next Day That Is Hard To Get Through.

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The Better The Writers The Less They Will Speak About What They Have Written Themselves.

Never Confuse Movement With Action.

Write Hard And Clear About What Hurts.

When You Start To Live Outside Yourself, It's All Dangerous.

There Is A Mystery In All Great Writing And That Mystery Does Not Dissect Out. It Continues And Is Always Valid.

I Am Like A Blind Pig When I Work.

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

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

You Expected To Be Sad In The Fall. Part Of You Died Each Year When The Leaves Fell From The Trees And Their Branches Were Bare Against The Wind And The Cold, Wintery Light. But You Knew There Would Always Be The Spring, As You Knew The River Would Flow Again After It Was Frozen. When The Cold Rains Kept On And Killed The Spring, It Was As Though A Young Person Died For No Reason.

My Life Used To Be Full Of Everything. Now If You Aren't With Me I Haven't A Thing In The World.

Sometimes You Know The Story. Sometimes You Make It Up As You Go Along And Have No Idea How It Will Come Out.

Writing Is The Clumsy Attempt To Find Symbols For Wordlessness.

The Best Way To Find Out If You Can Trust Somebody Is To Trust Them.

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

Ezra Was Right Half The Time, And When He Was Wrong, He Was So Wrong You Were Never In Any Doubt About It.

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.

In Order To Write About Life First You Must Live It.

I Believe That Basically You Write For Two People; Yourself To Try To Make It Absolutely Perfect; Or If Not That Then Wonderful. Then You Write For Who You Love Whether She Can Read Or Write Or Not And Whether She Is Alive Or Dead.

Everything You Have Is To Give. Thou Art A Phenomenon Of Philosophy And An Unfortunate Man.

Why Should Anybody Be Interested In Some Old Man Who Was A Failure?

I Do Not Need To Get Used To Your Silence. I Already Know It. I Quite Possibly Love All Of It.

Anyone Can Be A Fisherman In May.

I Am Glad We Do Not Have To Try To Kill The Stars.

All Things Truly Wicked Start From Innocence.

Live It Up So You Can Write It Down.

There Is No Friend As Loyal As A Book.

I Love You For All That You Are, All That You Have Been, All That You're Yet To Be.

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.

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.

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.

For What Are We Born If Not To Aid One Another?

Having Books Published Is Very Destructive To Writing.

But In The Night He Woke And Held Her Tight As Though She Were All Of Life And It Was Being Taken From Him. He Held Her Feeling She Was All Of Life There Was And It Was True.

The Only Place Where You Could See Life And Death, I. E., Violent Death Now That The Wars Were Over, Was In The Bull Ring And I Wanted Very Much To Go To Spain Where I Could Study It. I Was Trying To Learn To Write, Commencing With The Simplest Things, And One Of The Simplest Things Of All And The Most Fundamental Is Violent Death.

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

It Was Considered A Virtue Not To Talk Unnecessarily At Sea.

It Is Awfully Easy To Be Hard-boiled About Everything In The Daytime, But At Night It Is Another Thing.

For Him It Was A Dark Passage Which Led To Nowhere, Then To Nowhere, Then Again To Nowhere, Once Again To Nowhere, Always And Forever To Nowhere, Heavy On The Elbows In The Earth To Nowhere, Dark, Never Any End To Nowhere, Hung On All Time Always To Unknowing Nowhere, This Time And Again For Always To Nowhere, Now Not To Be Borne Once Again Always And To Nowhere, Now Beyond All Bearing Up, Up, Up And Into Nowhere, Suddenly, Scaldingly, Holdingly All Nowhere Gone And Time Absolutely Still And They Were Both There, Time Having Stopped And He Felt The Earth Move Out And Away From Under Them.

There Is No Hunting Like The Hunting Of Man, And Those Who Have Hunted Armed Men Long Enough And Liked It, Never Care For Anything Else Thereafter.

I'm Not Going To Get Into The Ring With Tolstoy.

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

They Arrested Us After Breakfast.

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

Develop A Built-in Bullshit Detector.

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.

I've Been In Love (truly) With Five Women, The Spanish Republic And The 4th Infantry Division.

Infantry Division

You Don't Have To Destroy Me. Do You? I'm Only A Woman Who Loves You And Wants To Do What You Want To Do. I've Been Destroyed Two Or Three Times Already. You Wouldn't Want To Destroy Me Again, Would You?

Once We Have A War There Is Only One Thing To Do. It Must Be Won. For Defeat Brings Worse Things Than Any That Can Ever Happen In War.

I Always Rewrite Each Day Up To The Point Where I Stopped. When It Is All Finished, Naturally You Go Over It. You Get Another Chance To Correct And Rewrite When Someone Else Types It, And You See It Clean In Type. The Last Chance Is In The Proofs. You're Grateful For These Different Chances.

The Most Painful Thing Is Losing Yourself In The Process Of Loving Someone Too Much, And Forgetting That You Are Special Too.

What Is The Definition Of Guts? Grace Under Pressure.

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

You’ll Ache. And You’re Going To Love It. It Will Crush You. And You’re Still Going To Love All Of It.

My Heart's Broken,' He Thought. 'if I Feel This Way My Heart Must Be Broken.

And Who Understands? Not Me, Because If I Did I Would Forgive It All.

If A Writer Stops Observing He Is Finished. Experience Is Communicated By Small Details Intimately Observed.

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.

Got Tight On Absinthe Last Night. Did Knife Tricks.

Hunger Is Good Discipline.

Good Discipline

Oh, Now, Now, Now, The Only Now, And Above All Now, And There Is No Other Now But Thou Now And Now Is Thy Prophet.

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

In The Morning There Was A Big Wind Blowing And The Waves Were Running High Up On The Beach And He Was Awake A Long Time Before He Remembered That His Heart Was Broken.

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.

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.

I’m Trying In All My Stories To Get The Feeling Of The Actual Life Across—not To Just Depict Life—or Criticize It—but To Actually Make It Alive. So That When You Have Read Something By Me You Actually Experience The Thing. You Can’t Do This Without Putting In The Bad And The Ugly As Well As What Is Beautiful. Because If It Is All Beautiful You Can’t Believe In It. Things Aren’t That Way.

You Are So Brave And Quiet I Forget You Are Suffering.

No Animal Has More Liberty Than The Cat, But It Buries The Mess It Makes. The Cat Is The Best Anarchist.

Happiness Is Often Presented As Being Very Dull But, He Thought, Lying Awake, That Is Because Dull People Are Sometimes Very Happy And Intelligent People Can And Do Go Around Making Themselves And Everyone Else Miserable. He Had Never Found Happiness Dull. It Always Seemed More Exciting Than Any Other Thing And Capable Of As Great Intensity As Sorrow To Those People Who Were Capable Of Having It.

Found Happiness

The Fact That I Am Interrupting Serious Work To Answer These Questions Proves That I Am So Stupid That I Should Be Penalized Severely. I Will Be. Don't Worry.

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

If Every One Said Orders Were Impossible To Carry Out When They Were Received Where Would You Be? Where Would We All Be If You Just Said, "impossible," When Orders Came?

A Writer Without A Sense Of Justice Or Injustice Would Be Better Off Editing The Yearbook For A School For Exceptional Children.

I Decided To Stop Drinking With Creeps. I Decided To Drink Only With Friends. I've Lost 30 Pounds.

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

You Don't Have To Destroy Me. Do You?

The Only Decent Bone In Her Body Was Mine.

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.

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.

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.

Fascism Is A Lie Told By Bullies.

I Wanted To Try This New Drink: That's All We Do, Isn't It - Look At Things And Try New Drinks?

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

Farewell To Arms

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.

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

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.

I Do Not Think I Had Ever Seen A Nastier-looking Man. Under The Black Hat, When I Had First Seen Them, The Eyes Had Been Those Of An Unsuccessful Rapist.

If You're Looking For Messages, Try Western Union.

But Paris Was A Very Old City And We Were Young And Nothing Was Simple There.

Why Did They Make Birds So Delicate And Fine As Those Sea Swallows When The Ocean Can Be So Cruel?

For Sale. Baby Shoes. Never Worn.

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

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

Let Those Who Want To Save The World If You Can Get To See It Clear And As A Whole. Then Any Part You Make Will Represent The Whole If It's Made Truly. The Thing To Do Is Work And Learn To Make It.

Critics Are Men Who Watch A Battle From A High Place Then Come Down And Shoot The Survivors.

Everybody Has Strange Things That Mean Things To Them. You Couldn't Help It.

Life Is The Best Left Hooker I Ever Saw, Although Some Say It Was Charlie White Of Chicago

In Africa A Thing Is True At First Light And A Lie By Noon And You Have No More Respect For It Than For The Lovely, Perfect Wood-fringed Lake You See Across The Sun-baked Salt Plain. You Have Walked Across That Plain In The Morning And You Know That No Such Lake Is There. But Now It Is There Absolutely True, Beautiful And Believable.

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.

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.

The Only Kind Of Writing Is Rewriting.

Perhaps I Should Not Have Been A Fisherman, He Thought. But That Was The Thing That I Was Born For.

I'm Always Reading Books-as Many As There Are. I Ration Myself On Them So That I'll Always Be In Supply.

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

Until The Dead Are Buried They Change Somewhat In Appearance Each Day. The Color Change In Caucasian Races Is From White To Yellow, To Yellow-green, To Black. If Left Long Enough In The Heat The Flesh Comes To Resemble Coal-tar, Especially Where It Has Been Broken Or Torn, And It Has Quite A Visible Tarlike Iridescence. The Dead Grow Larger Each Day Until Sometimes They Become Quite Too Big For Their Uniforms, Filling These Until They Seem Blown Tight Enough To Burst. The Individual Members May Increase In Girth To An Unbelievable Extent And Faces Fill As Taut And Globular As Balloons.

Fish," The Old Man Said. "fish, You Are Going To Have To Die Anyway. Do You Have To Kill Me Too?

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.

We Ate Well And Cheaply And Drank Well And Cheaply And Slept Well And Warm Together And Loved Each Other.

The House Was Built On The Highest Part Of The Narrow Tongue Of Land Between The Harbor And The Open Sea. It Had Lasted Through Three Hurricanes And It Was Built Solid As A Ship.

When You Go To War As A Boy You Have A Great Illusion Of Immortality. Other People Get Killed; Not You. . . . Then When You Are Badly Wounded The First Time You Lose That Illusion And You Know It Can Happen To You. After Being Severely Wounded Two Weeks Before My Nineteenth Birthday I Had A Bad Time Until I Figured Out That Nothing Could Happen To Me That Had Not Happened To All Men Before Me. Whatever I Had To Do Men Had Always Done. If They Had Done It Then I Could Do It Too And The Best Thing Was Not To Worry About It.

You Read What You Have Written And, As You Always Stop When You Know What Is Going To Happen Next, You Go On From There. You Write Until You Come To A Place Where You Still Have Your Juice And Know What Will Happen Next And You Stop And Try To Live Through Until The Next Day When You Hit It Again.

The Worst Death For Anyone Is To Lose The Center Of His Being, The Thing He Really Is. Retirement Is The Filthiest Word In The Language. Whether By Choice Or By Fate, To Retire From What You Do - And Makes You What You Are - Is To Back Up Into The Grave.

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.

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

I Never Had To Choose A Subject - My Subject Rather Chose Me.

You Can Write Anytime People Will Leave You Alone And Not Interrupt You.

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

Having Books Published Is Very Destructive To Writing. It Is Even Worse Than Making Love Too Much. Because When You Make Love Too Much At Least You Get A Damned Clarte That Is Like No Other Light. A Very Clear And Hollow Light.

That Every Day Should Be A Fiesta Seemed To Me A Wonderful Discovery.

I Love Sleep. My Life Has The Tendency To Fall Apart When I'm Awake, You Know?

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.

Riding Your Bike

He Remembered Poor Julian [actually F. Scott Fitzgerald] And His Romantic Awe Of Them And How He Had Started A Story Once That Began, "the Very Rich Are Different From You And Me." And How Someone Had Said To Julian, "yes, They Have More Money."

Scott Fitzgerald

When You Have A Child, The World Has A Hostage.

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.

As Long As You Can Start, You Are All Right. The Juice Will Come.

Always Do Sober What You Said You'd Do Drunk. That Will Teach You To Keep Your Mouth Shut.

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

My Attitude Toward Punctuation Is That It Ought To Be As Conventional As Possible. The Game Of Golf Would Lose A Good Deal If Croquet Mallets And Billiard Cues Were Allowed On The Putting Green. You Ought To Be Able To Show That You Can Do It A Good Deal Better Than Anyone Else With The Regular Tools Before You Have A License To Bring In Your Own Improvements.

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.

There Are Many Good Fishermen And Some Great Ones. But There Is Only One You.

No Writer Who Knows The Great Writers Who Did Not Receive The Prize Can Accept It Other Than With Humility. There Is No Need To List These Writers. Everyone Here May Make His Own List According To His Knowledge And His Conscience.

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.

Look At Things And Listen And Feel.

How Would That Premise Stand Up If He Examined It? That Was Probably Why The Communists Were Always Cracking Down On Bohemiansism. When You Were Drunk Or When You Committed Adultery You Recognised Your Own Personal Fallability Of That So Mutable Substitute For The Apostles' Creed, The Party Line. Down With Bohemianism, The Sin Of Majakowski.

Organizations For Writers Palliate The Writer's Loneliness, But I Doubt If They Improve His Writing.... For He Does His Work Alone And If He Is A Good Enough Writer He Must Face Eternity, Or The Lack Of It, Each Day.

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.

I Wish I Could Write Well Enough To Write About Aircraft. Faulkner Did It Very Well In Pylon But You Cannot Do Something Someone Else Has Done Though You Might Have Done It If They Hadn't.

I Drink To Make Other People More Interesting.

If People Bring So Much Courage To This World The World Has To Kill Them To Break Them, So Of Course It Kills Them. The World Breaks Every One And Afterward Many Are Strong At The Broken Places. But Those That Will Not Break It Kills. It Kills The Very Good And The Very Gentle And The Very Brave Impartially. If You Are None Of These You Can Be Sure It Will Kill You Too But There Will Be No Special Hurry.

If You Have A Success, You Have It For The Wrong Reasons. If You Become Popular It Is Always Because Of The Worst Aspects Of Your Work.

Prose Is Architecture, Not Interior Decoration, And The Baroque Is Over.

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

There Is Never Any Ending To Paris And The Memory Of Each Person Who Has Lived In It Differs From That Of Any Other. We Always Returned To It No Matter Who We Were Or How It Was Changed Or With What Difficulties, Or Ease, It Could Be Reached. Paris Was Always Worth It And You Received Return For Whatever You Brought To It. But This Is How Paris Was In The Early Days When We Were Very Poor And Very Happy.

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.

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

You're An Expatriate. You've Lost Touch With The Soil. You Get Precious. Fake European Standards Have Ruined You. You Drink Yourself To Death. You Become Obsessed By Sex. You Spend All Your Time Talking, Not Working. You Are An Expatriate, See? You Hang Around Cafts.

You Must Be Prepared To Work Always Without Applause.

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.

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.

And This Was The Price You Paid For Sleeping Together.

Sleeping Together

All My Life I've Looked At Words As Though I Were Seeing Them For The First Time.

It Is A Hell Of A Thing To Be Hungry In Your Own House.

Everything Is Your Fault If You're Any Damn Good.

Everybody Has Something Wrong With Them.

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.

A Big Lie Is More Plausible Than Truth.

A Writer Should Write What He Has To Say And Not Speak It.

First, There Must Be Talent. . .then There Must Be Discipline. . .then There Must Be. . .and Absolute Conscience. . .to Prevent Faking.

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.

Let Him Think Is I Am More Man Than I Am And I Will Be So.

When You Love You Wish To Do Things For. You Wish To Sacrifice For. You Wish To Serve.

Cowardice, As Distinguished From Panic, Is Almost Always Simply A Lack Of Ability To Suspend The Functioning Of The Imagination. Learning To Suspend Your Imagination And Live Completely In The Very Second Of The Present With No Before And No After Is The Greatest Gift A Soldier Can Acquire.

Life Breaks All Of Us But Some Of Us Get Stronger In The Broken Places.

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

Man Is Not Made For Defeat.

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

Tell Me Some True Things About Fighting.''tell Me You Love Me.''i Love You,' The Girl Said. 'you Can Publish It In The Gazzettino If You Like. I Love Your Hard, Flat Body And Your Strange Eyes That Frighten Me When They Become Wicked. I Love Your Hand And All Your Other Wounded Places.

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.

People Fall In Love, But Have To Climb Out.

Falling In Love

Wine Is A Grand Thing," I Said. "it Makes You Forget All The Bad.

Farewell To Arms

I Was Always Embarresed By The Words 'sacred,' 'glorious,' And 'sacrifice' And The Expression 'in Vain.' We Had Heard Them, Sometimes Standing In The Rain Almost Out Of Earshot, So That Only The Shouted Words Came Through, And Had Read Them On Proclamations That Were Slapped Up By Billposters Over Other Proclamations, Now For A Long Time, And I Had Seen Nothing Sacred, And The Things That Were Glorious Had No Glory And The Sacrifices Were Like The Stock Yards At Chicago If Nothing Was Done With The Meat Except To Bury It.

I Would Like To Take The Great Dimaggio Fishing," The Old Man Said. "they Say His Father Was A Fisherman. Maybe He Was As Poor As We Are And Would Understand.

But Life Isn't Hard To Manage When You've Nothing To Lose.

Nothing To Lose

All The Critics Who Could Not Make Their Reputations By Discovering You Are Hoping To Make Them By Predicting Hopefully Your Approaching Impotence, Failure And General Drying Up Of Natural Juices. Not A One Will Wish You Luck Or Hope That You Will Keep On Writing Unless You Have Political Affiliations In Which Case These Will Rally Around And Speak Of You And Homer, Balzac, Zola And Link Steffens.

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.

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.

The Writer's Job Is To Tell The Truth.

Telling The Truth

War Is No Longer Made By Simply Analyzed Economic Forces If It Ever Was. War Is Made Or Planned Now By Individual Men, Demagogues And Dictators Who Play On The Patriotism Of Their People To Mislead Them Into A Belief In The Great Fallacy Of War When All Their Vaunted Reforms Have Failed To Satisfy The People They Misrule.

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.

Wearing Down Seven Number Two Pencils Is A Good Day's Work.

Life Breaks Us All But In The End We Are Stronger In The Broken Places.

I Try Not To Borrow, First You Borrow Then You Beg.

To Have Come On All This New World Of Writing, With Time To Read In A City Like Paris Where There Was A Way Of Living Well And Working, No Matter How Poor You Were, Was Like Having A Great Treasure Given To You.

The Bicycle Riders Drank Much Wine, And Were Burned And Browned By The Sun. They Did Not Take The Race Seriously Except Among Themselves.

I Loved You When I Saw You Today And I Loved You Always But I Never Saw You Before.

Most People Never Listen.

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

In Modern War... You Will Die Like A Dog For No Good Reason.

All The Contact I Have Had With Politics Has Left Me Feeling As Though I Had Been Drinking Out Of Spitoons.

However You Make Your Living Is Where Your Talent Lies.

No Well-run Yacht Basin In Southern Waters Is Complete Without At Least Two Sun-burned, Salt Bleached-headed Esthonians Who Are Waiting For A Check From Their Last Article. When It Comes They Will Set Sail To Another Yacht Basin And Write Another Saga.

I Was Trying To Write Then And I Found The Greatest Difficulty, Aside From Knowing What You Really Felt, Rather That What You Were Supposed To Feel, And Had Been Taught To Feel, Was To Put Down What Really Happened In Action; What The Actual Things Which Produced The Emotion That You Experienced.

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

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.

(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.

The Coward Dies A Thousand Deaths, The Brave But One'.... (the Man Who First Said That) Was Probably A Coward.... He Knew A Great Deal About Cowards But Nothing About The Brave. The Brave Dies Perhaps Two Thousand Deaths If He's Intelligent. He Simply Doesn't Mention Them.

Experiencing Differences Is Crucial To The Human Condition. Especially When That Difference Is Over The Head, Blower Powder.

Human Condition

No Tears In The Writer, No Tears In The Reader.

There Are The Two Curses Of Spain, The Bulls And The Priests.

Romance Was A Game, Like Bridge, In Which You Said Things Instead Of Playing Cards. Like Bridge You Had To Pretend You Were Playing For Money Or Playing For Some Stakes.

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

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Eduardo Chillida

Patricia Ireland

George Balanchine

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