...when I kissed her and saw that her eyes were shut. I kissed both her shut eyes. I thought she was probably a little crazy. It was all right if she was. I did not care what I was getting into.
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Ernest Hemingway
Ernest Miller Hemingway (July 21, 1899 – July 2, 1961) was 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 works, were published posthumously. Many of his works are considered classics of American literature. Hemingway was raised in Oak Park, Illinois. After high school, he reported for a few months for The Kansas City Star, before leaving for the Italian front to enlist with the World War I ambulance drivers. In 1918, he was seriously wounded and returned home. His wartime experiences formed the basis for his novel A Farewell to Arms (1929
I kissed her neck and shoulders. I felt faint with loving her so much.
I am so in love with you that there isn’t anything else.
You've such a lovely temperature.
Oh, darling….You will be good to me, won’t you?…You will, won’t you?…Because we’re going to have a strange life.
When you love you wish to do things for. You wish to sacrifice for. You wish to serve.
I’m here. I wouldn’t go away. I’m always here.
But we were never lonely and never afraid when we were together.
I don’t. I don’t want anybody else to touch you. I’m silly. I get furious if they touch you.
My life used to be full of everything. Now if you aren’t with me I haven’t a thing in the world.
But people do. They love each other and they misunderstand on purpose and they fight and then suddenly they aren’t the same one.
Oh, darling, you will be good to me, won’t you? Because we’re going to have a strange life.
When I saw her I was in love with her. Everything turned over inside of me. She looked toward the door, saw there was no one, then she sat on the side of the bed and leaned over and kissed me.
Why, darling, I don't live at all when I'm not with you.
To be able to say: I loved this person, we had a hell of a nice time together, it’s over but in a way it will never be over and I do know that I for sure loved this person, to be able to say that and mean it, that’s rare…That’s rare and valuable.
You may talk. And I may listen. And miracles might happen.