The Sun Also Rises

by Ernest Hemingway

“I can’t stand it to think my life is going so fast and I’m not really living it.”

“Don’t you ever get the feeling that all your life is going by and you’re not taking advantage of it? Do you realize you’ve lived nearly half the time you have to live already?”

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

It is awfully easy to be hard-boiled about everything in the daytime, but at night it is another thing.

“You and your quiet,” said Brett. “What is it men feel about quiet?” “We like it,” said the count. “Like you like noise, my dear.”

Our stay on earth is not for long. Let us rejoice and believe and give thanks.”

We had a bottle of wine apiece. Harris would not let us pay. He talked Spanish quite well, and the innkeeper would not take our money. “I say. You don’t know what it’s meant to me to have you chaps up here.” “We’ve had a grand time, Harris.” Harris was a little tight. “I say. Really you don’t know how much it means. I’ve not had much fun since the war.” “We’ll fish together again, sometime. Don’t you forget it, Harris.” “We must. We have had such a jolly good time.”

“How did you go bankrupt?” Bill asked. “Two ways,” Mike said. “Gradually and then suddenly.”

I opened the door. The maid closed it after me. Brett was in bed. She had just been brushing her hair and held the brush in her hand. The room was in that disorder produced only by those who have always had servants.