Sunday, December 22, 2024 Text is available under the CC BY-SA 3.0 licence.

Ernest Hemingway

« All quotes from this author
 

You're an expatriate. You've lost touch with the soil. You get precious. Fake European standards have ruined you. You drink yourself to death. You become obsessed by sex. You spend all your time talking, not working. You are an expatriate, see? You hang around cafés.
--
Bill Gorton to Jake Barnes, in Book. 2, Ch. 12

 
Ernest Hemingway

» Ernest Hemingway - all quotes »



Tags: Ernest Hemingway Quotes, Authors starting by H


Similar quotes

 

The crime is how we deliberately keep out of touch,
Pretending it has nothing to do with us...

How familiar the metaphors, we think, suspecting our
House servants of having killed & eaten our pet cats!

At the University, expatriate lecturers gesticulate,
Finger the leaves of Marx to a batch of yawning students,
Nervously trying to define something or other...

Colonies of storks in flamboyant trees look down on
The valley dust and the last of the sweet bananas.

 
Jack Mapanje
 

The realization that he is white in a black country, and respected for it, is the turning point in the expatriate’s career. He can either forget it, or capitalize on it. Most choose the latter.

 
Paul Theroux
 

The most dangerous way to lose time is not to spend it having fun, but to spend it doing fake work. When you spend time having fun, you know you're being self-indulgent. Alarms start to go off fairly quickly. If I woke up one morning and sat down on the sofa and watched TV all day, I'd feel like something was terribly wrong. ... But the same alarms don't go off on the days when I get nothing done, because I'm doing stuff that seems, superficially, like real work.

 
Paul Graham
 

Time is the most precious gift in our possession, for it is the most irrevocable. This is what makes it so disturbing to look back upon the time which we have lost. Time lost is time when we have not lived a full human life, time unenriched by experience, creative endeavor, enjoyment, and suffering. Time lost is time not filled, time left empty.

 
Dietrich Bonhoeffer
 

My pick is working deep in the soil of this unknown America, turning out gold and opals and precious stones, an altar, a broken statue. And the Muse divines the meaning of the hieroglyphics. The strange life of a vanished people emerges from the mist of time.

 
Ruben Dario
© 2009–2013Quotes Privacy Policy | Contact