1,349 Quotes by Ernest Hemingway
- Author Ernest Hemingway
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Why, darling, I don't live at all when I'm not with you.
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- Author Ernest Hemingway
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This is a good place," he said."There's a lot of liquor," I agreed.
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- Author Ernest Hemingway
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You ought to write a book on wines, count," I said. "Mr. Barnes," answered the count, "All I want out of wine is to enjoy them.
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- Author Ernest Hemingway
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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. Later he became conscious of his damaged wings and of their construction and he learned to think and could not fly any more because the love of flight was gone and he could only remember when it had been effortless.
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- Author Ernest Hemingway
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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.
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- Author Ernest Hemingway
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I've seen you, beauty, and you belong to me now, whoever you are waiting for and if I never see you again, I thought. You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil.
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- Author Ernest Hemingway
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I'm with you. No matter what else you have in your head I'm with you and I love you.
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- Author Ernest Hemingway
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He was in despair.""What about?""Nothing.""How do you know it was nothing?""He has plenty of money.
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- Author Ernest Hemingway
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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.
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