Love is the wanting to do things for.
Let him think that I am more man than I am and I will be so.
It was a very Corsican wine and you could dilute it by half with water and still receive its message.
It came very fast and the sun went a dull yellow and then everything was gray and the sky was covered and the cloud came on down the mountain and suddenly we were in it and it was snow.
In every port in the world, at least two Estonians can be found.
If we win here we will win everywhere. The world is a fine place and worth the fighting for and I hate very much to leave it.
If a writer of prose knows enough about what he is writing about, he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongl...
I wish I did not think about it so much, he thought.
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 r...
I told the boy I was a strange old man, he said. Now is when I must prove it.
I remember the smell of the pines and the sleeping on the mattresses of beech leaves in the woodcutters' huts and the skiing through the forest following the tracks of hares and of foxes. In the high...
I loved you when I saw you today and I loved you always but I never saw you before.
I loved the country so that I was happy as you are after you have been with a woman that you really love, when, empty, you feel it welling up again and there it is and you can never have it all and ye...
I heard them laugh. I turned off the light and tried to go to sleep. It was not necessary to read any more. I could shut my eyes without getting the wheeling sensation. But i could not sleep. There is...
I had gone to no place where the roads were frozen and hard as iron, where it was clear cold and dry and the snow was dry and powdery and hare-tracks in the snow and the peasants took off their hats a...
I am like a blind pig when I work.
I am asking Scribners to insert as a subtitle in everything after the eighth printing THE SUN ALSO RISES (LIKE YOUR COCK IF YOU HAVE ONE) A greater Gatsby (Written with the friendship of F. Scott Fitz...
He started to talk about my writing and I stopped listening. I was embarrassed and it made me feel sick for people to talk about my writing to my face, and I looked at him and his marked-for-death loo...
He looked across the sea and knew how alone he was now. But he could see the prisms in the deep dark water and the line stretching ahead and the strange undulation of the calm. The clouds were buildin...
He had been contemptuous of those who wrecked. You did not have to like it because you understood it. He could beat anything, he thought, because no thing could hurt him if he did not care.All right....