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Thorns, Lust, and...
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Jan 18, 2025 06:05PM

 
Eleanor of Aquita...
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Jan 07, 2025 03:32PM

 
The Undiscovered ...
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Dec 28, 2024 11:11AM

 
Book cover for Hallowe'en Party (Hercule Poirot, #41)
There was a kind of pagan ruthlessness about it. It could be along these winding paths that the fairies hunted their victims down or a cold goddess decreed that sacrifices would have to be offered.
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Ernest Hemingway
“Once in camp I put a log on a fire and it was full of ants. As it commenced to burn, the ants swarmed out and went first toward the center where the fire was; then turned back and ran toward the end. When there were enough on the end they fell off into the fire. Some got out, their bodies burnt and flattened, and went off not knowing where they were going. But most of them went toward the fire and then back toward the end and swarmed on the cool end and finally fell off into the fire. I remember thinking at the time that it was the end of the world and a splendid chance to be a messiah and lift the log off the fire and throw it out where the ants could get off onto the ground. But I did not do anything but throw a tin cup of water on the log, so that I would have the cup empty to put whiskey in before I added water to it. I think the cup of water on the burning log only steamed the ants.”
Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

Ernest Hemingway
“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, A Farewell to Arms

Ernest Hemingway
“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.”
Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

Ernest Hemingway
“No, that is the great fallacy: the wisdom of old men. They do not grow wise. They grow careful.”
Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

Ernest Hemingway
“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.”
Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

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