The Old Man and the Sea

by Ernest Hemingway

But the old man always thought of her as feminine and as something that gave or withheld great favours, and if she did wild or wicked things it was because she could not help them. The moon affects her as it does a woman, he thought.

But I would rather be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready.

Then he said aloud, “I wish I had the boy. To help me and to see this.” No one should be alone in their old age, he thought. But it is unavoidable. I must remember to eat the tuna before he spoils in order to keep strong.

I wish I could show him what sort of man I am. But then he would see the cramped hand. Let him think I am more man than I am and I will be so.

He commenced to say his prayers mechanically. Sometimes he would be so tired that he could not remember the prayer and then he would say them fast so that they would come automatically.

This is so relatable lmao

“I told the boy I was a strange old man,” he said. “Now is when I must prove it.” The thousand times that he had proved it meant nothing. Now he was proving it again. Each time was a new time and he never thought about the past when he was doing it.

Sad that he feels the need to keep proving himself despite having done so many times before.

Why was I not born with two good hands? he thought. Perhaps it was my fault in not training that one properly. But God knows he has had enough chances to learn.

Self critical

It is silly not to hope, he thought. Besides I believe it is a sin.

“You’re tired, old man,” he said. “You’re tired inside.”