I’d rather not love anyone, he thought. I’d rather have fun. And fun, his good side said to him, you have no fun when you do not love.
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Across the River and into the Trees
HEMINGWAY'S POIGNANT TALE OF A LOVE FOUND TOO LATE Set in Venice at the close of World War II, Across the River and into the Trees is the bittersweet story of a middle-aged American colonel, scarred by war and in failing health, who fin
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She is a beautiful, hard piece of work. She is damned beautiful, actually.
Please don’t make fun when I tell you something true.
When people talk, listen completely. Most people never listen.
'Tell me some true things about fighting.' 'Tell me you love me.' 'I love you,' the girl said. 'You can publish it in the Gazzettino if you like. I love your hard, flat body and your strange eyes that frighten me when they become wicked. I love your hand and all your other wounded places.'
'What happens to people that love each other?' 'I suppose they have whatever they have and they are more fortunate than others. Then one of them gets the emptiness for ever.'
They started two hours before daylight, and at first, it was not necessary to break the ice across the canal as other boats had gone on ahead. In each boat, in the darkness, so you could not see, but only hear him, the poler stood in the stern, with his long oar. The shooter sat on a shooting stool…