The Sun Also Rises

by Ernest Hemingway

You can’t get away from yourself by moving from one place to another. There’s nothing to that.”

So there you were. I was sorry for him, but it was not a thing you could do anything about, because right away you ran up against the two stubbornnesses: South America could fix it and he did not like Paris. He got the first idea out of a book, and I suppose the second came out of a book too.

“Oh, don’t go to hell,” I said. “Stick around. We’re just starting lunch.”

“You know it makes one feel rather good deciding not to be a bitch.”