Ernest Hemingway
Ernest Hemingway
Ernest Miller Hemingwaywas an American novelist, short story writer, and journalist. His economical and understated style had a strong influence on 20th-century fiction, while his life of adventure and his public image influenced later generations. Hemingway produced most of his work between the mid-1920s and the mid-1950s, and won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1954. He published seven novels, six short story collections, and two non-fiction works. Additional works, including three novels, four short story collections, and three non-fiction...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth21 July 1899
CityOak Park, IL
CountryUnited States of America
The great thing is to last and get your work done, and see and hear and understand and write when there is something that you know and not before and not too damn much afterwards.
Man is not made for defeat. A man can be destroyed but not defeated.
A man can be destroyed but not defeated.
Oak Park is a neighborhood of wide lawns and narrow minds.
The rich were dull and they drank too much or they played too much backgammon. They were dull and they were repetitious. He remembered poor Julian and his romantic awe of them and how he had started a story once that began, ''The very rich are different from you and me.'' And how someone had said to Julian, ''Yes, they have more money.''
I rewrote the ending to 'Farewell to Arms,' the last page of it, thirty-nine times before I was satisfied.
A writer of fiction is really... a congenital liar who invents from his own knowledge or that of other men.
Every day above earth is a good day.
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.
Everybody has something wrong with them.
The brave dies perhaps two thousand deaths if he's intelligent. He simply doesn't mention them.
Creation's probably overrated. After all, God made the world in only six days and rested on the seventh.
How lazily the sun goes down in Granada, it hides beneath the water, it conceals in the Alhambra!
I do not know what I thought Paris would be like, but it was not that way. It rained nearly every day.