What other culture could have produced someone like Hemingway and not seen the joke?
Gore VidalTags: truth insult hemingway vidal
I always shot scorpions with the .22 pistol.
Ernest HemingwayTags: writing firearms hemingway
The Purdey was not a Purdey but a straight-stocked long-barreled Scott live-pigeon full choke in both barrels thai I had bought from a lot of shotguns a dealer had brought down fron Udine to the Kechlers' villa in Codroipo.
Ernest HemingwayI started out of course with Hemingway when I learned how to write. Until I realized Hemingway doesn't have a sense of humor. He never has anything funny in his stories.
Elmore LeonardTags: humor writing inspiration interview starting hemingway interview-in-wsj-01-13-2013 wall-street-journal
My big fish must be somewhere.
Ernest HemingwayTags: hemingway ernest-hemingway the-old-man-and-the-sea
Only I have no luck any more. But who knows? Maybe today. Every day is a new day. It is better to be lucky. But I would rather be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready.
Ernest HemingwayTags: luck preparation hard-work hemingway ernest-hemingway the-old-man-and-the-sea
Mr Hemingway does it extremely well. Nothing matters. Everything happens. One wants to keep oneself loose. Avoid one thing only: gettng connected up. Don't get connected up. If you get held by anything, break it. Don't be held. Break it, and get away. Don't get away with the idea of getting somewhere else. Just get away, for the sake of getting away. Beat it! “Well, boy, I guess I'll beat it.” Ah, the pleasure in saying that
D.H. LawrenceTags: letters modern hemingway calendar lawrence
The mortality rate of literary friendships is high. Writers tend to be bad risks as friends ~ probably for much the same reasons that they are bad matrimonial risks. They expend the best parts of themselves in their work. Moreover, literary ambition has a way of turning into literary competition; if fame is the spur, envy may be a concomitant.
Matthew J. BruccoliTags: friendship writers fitzgerald hemingway
I thought back to Meg’s advice about Hemingway sentences—simple declarative statements that showed the truth and distilled the meaning. My first attempt at that had been cynical and messed up. I gave it a go again.
Find one lost sheep.
The angels rejoice.
Tags: love cynicism college religion faith angels dating high-school ya hemingway young-adult-fiction orphan orphanage teen-fiction wyoming glass-girl laura-anderson-kurk perfect-glass long-distance-relationship nicaragua teen-literature
The blue-backed notebooks, the two pencils and the pencil sharpener (a pocket knife was too wasteful) the marble-topped tables, the smell of early morning, sweeping out and mopping, and luck were all you needed. For luck you carried a horse chestnut and a rabbit's foot in your right pocket. The fur had been worn off the rabbit's foot long ago and the bones and the sinews were polished by wear. The claws scratched in the lining of your pocket and you knew your luck was still there.
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