Sun Also Rises Quotes by Ernest Hemingway, A. E. Hotchner, Zelda Fitzgerald, Elizabeth Olsen, Elizabeth Wurtzel and many others.
You’re not a moron. You’re only a case of arrested development.
You’re an expatriate. You’ve lost touch with the soil. You get precious. Fake European standards have ruined you. You drink yourself to death. You become obsessed by sex. You spend all your time talking, not working. You are an expatriate, see? You hang around cafTs.
From the time I read my first Hemingway work, The Sun Also Rises, as a student at Soldan High School in St. Louis, I was struck with an affliction common to my generation: Hemingway Awe.
You ought to dream. All our biggest businessmen have been dreamers.
It is awfully easy to be hard-boiled about everything in the daytime, but at night it is another thing.
A bottle of wine was good company.
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?
I was a little drunk. Not drunk in any positive sense but just enough to be careless.
you can’t get away from yourself by moving from one place to another.
Oh Jake,” Brett said, “We could have had such a damned good time together.” Ahead was a mounted policeman in khaki directing traffic. He raised his baton. The car slowed suddenly, pressing Brett against me. Yes,” I said. “Isn’t it pretty to think so?
Nobody that ever left their own country ever wrote anything worth printing. Not even in the newspapers.
That seemed to handle it. That was it. Send a girl off with one man. Introduce her to another to go off with him. Now go and bring her back. And sign the wire with love. That was it all right. I went in to lunch.
Never fall in love?” “Always,” said the count. “I am always in love.
I mistrust all frank and simple people, especially when their stories hold together
Nobody ever lives their life all the way up except bullfighters.
[“The Sun Also Rises” is about] bullfighting, bullslinging and bullsh[*]t.
There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.