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Ernest Hemingway Quotes - Page 13

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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.

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.

Ernest Hemingway
Taken, I Hate You, Night
Ernest Hemingway (2014). “For Whom the Bell Tolls”, p.290, Simon and Schuster

Writing is something that you can never do as well as it can be done. It is a perpetual challenge and it is more difficult than anything else that I have ever done.

Ernest Hemingway
Writing, Challenges, Done
Ernest Hemingway, Carlos Baker (2003). “Ernest Hemingway Selected Letters 1917-1961”, p.419, Simon and Schuster

I drank a bottle of wine for company. It was Chateau Margaux. It was pleasant to be drinking slowly and to be tasting the wine and to be drinking alone. A bottle of wine was good company.

Ernest Hemingway
Drinking, Wine, Bottles
Ernest Hemingway (1926). “The Sun Also Rises”, p.236, Simon and Schuster

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.

Ernest Hemingway
Fidelity, Invention, Should
Ernest Hemingway, Patrick Hemingway (2012). “Hemingway on War”, p.24, Simon and Schuster

It's a town you come to for a short time.

Ernest Hemingway
New York, Towns, Short Time
"How Do You Like It Now, Gentlemen?" by Lillian Ross, www.newyorker.com. May 13, 1950.

You’ll ache. And you’re going to love it. It will crush you. And you’re still going to love all of it.

Ernest Hemingway
Crush, Ache, Stills

God knows I didn't mean to fall in love with her

Ernest Hemingway
Falling In Love, Mean, God Knows

He was just a coward and that was the worst luck any many could have.

Ernest Hemingway
Luck, Coward, Tolls
Ernest Hemingway (2014). “The Hemingway Collection”, p.2877, Simon and Schuster

There will always be people who say it does not exist because they cannot have it. But I tell you it is true and that you have it and that you are lucky even if you die tomorrow.

Ernest Hemingway
People, Doe, Lucky
Ernest Hemingway (2014). “The Hemingway Collection”, p.2842, Simon and Schuster

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.

Ernest Hemingway
Inspiring, Horse, Dust
Ernest Hemingway (2012). “Hemingway on War”, p.191, Simon and Schuster

Why did they make birds so delicate and fine as those sea swallows when the ocean can be so cruel?

Ernest Hemingway
Ocean, Sea, Bird
Ernest Hemingway (1995). “The old man and the sea”, p.11, Hueber Verlag

A wine shop was open and I went in for some coffee. It smelled of early morning, of swept dust, spoons in coffee-glasses and the wet circles left by wine glasses.

Ernest Hemingway
Morning, Coffee, Wine
Ernest Hemingway (2016). “A Farewell to Arms”, p.139, Hamilton Books

If the reader prefers, this book may be regarded as fiction. But there is always the chance that such a book of fiction may throw some light on what has been written as fact.

Ernest Hemingway
Book, Light, Fiction
Ernest Hemingway (1996). “A Moveable Feast”, p.12, Simon and Schuster

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.

Ernest Hemingway
Beautiful, Ugly, Feels
Ernest Hemingway (2014). “For Whom the Bell Tolls”, p.114, Simon and Schuster

Drinking is a way of ending the day.

Ernest Hemingway
Drinking, Beer, Way

[Never give up hope. Never give in to pessimism. Never despair.] No horse named Morbid ever won a race!

Ernest Hemingway
Horse, Giving Up, Race

He would lie in the bed and finally, with daylight, he would go to sleep. After all, he said to himself, it is probably only insomnia. Many must have it.

Ernest Hemingway
Lying, Sleep, Insomnia
Ernest Hemingway (2014). “Snows of Kilimanjaro and Other Stories”, p.35, Simon and Schuster

I learned never to empty the well of my writing, but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it.

Ernest Hemingway
Powerful, Spring, Writing
Ernest Hemingway (2014). “Moveable Feast: The Restored Edition”, p.64, Simon and Schuster

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.

Ernest Hemingway
Morning, Wall, Hangover
"Complete Poems".

If my Valentine you won't be, I'll hang myself on your Christmas tree.

Ernest Hemingway
Valentine, Tree, Happy Valentines Day
Ernest Hemingway (1992). “Complete Poems”, p.127, U of Nebraska Press

The writer's job is not to judge, but to seek to understand.

Ernest Hemingway
Jobs, Judging

There is no left and right in writing. There is only good and bad writing.

Ernest Hemingway
Writing, Good And Bad, Left
Ernest Hemingway, Carlos Baker (2003). “Ernest Hemingway Selected Letters 1917-1961”, p.363, Simon and Schuster

The brave dies perhaps two thousand deaths if he's intelligent. He simply doesn't mention them.

Ernest Hemingway
Intelligent, Two, Brave
Ernest Hemingway (2016). “A Farewell to Arms”, p.83, Hamilton Books

Madame, it is an old word and each one takes it new and wears it out himself. It is a word that fills with meaning as a bladder with air and the meaning goes out of it as quickly. It may be punctured as a bladder is punctured and patched and blown up again and if you have not had it does not exist for you. All people talk of it, but those who have had it are marked by it, and I would not wish to speak of it further since of all things it is the most ridiculous to talk of and only fools go through it many times.

Ernest Hemingway
Love, Air, People
Ernest Hemingway (2014). “The Hemingway Collection”, p.2261, Simon and Schuster

The fools think I am writing algebra but what I am really writing is geometry.

Ernest Hemingway
Writing, Thinking, Fool

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