This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
Ernest Hemingway, fully Ernest Miller Hemingway
There isnÂ’t always an explanation for everything.
Ernest Hemingway, fully Ernest Miller Hemingway
The individual, the great artist when he comes, uses everything that has been discovered or known about his art up to that point, being able to accept or reject in a time so short it seems that the knowledge was born with him, rather than that he takes instantly what it takes the ordinary man a lifetime to know, and then the great artist goes beyond what has been done or known and makes something of his own.
Ernest Hemingway, fully Ernest Miller Hemingway
Where we would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright. That was where we could go.
Good |
Ernest Hemingway, fully Ernest Miller Hemingway
I say that is wine, Brett held up her glass. We ought to toast something. 'Here's to royalty.' This wine is too good for toast-drinking, my dear. you don't want to mix emotions up with a wine like that. you lose the taste. Brett's glass was empty.
Right |
Ernest Hemingway, fully Ernest Miller Hemingway
I wonder what your idea of heaven would be — A beautiful vacuum filled with wealthy monogamists. All powerful and members of the best families all drinking themselves to death. And hell would probably an ugly vacuum full of poor polygamists unable to obtain booze or with chronic stomach disorders that they called secret sorrows.
Ernest Hemingway, fully Ernest Miller Hemingway
In the morning there was a big wind blowing and the waves were running high up on the beach and he was awake a long time before he remembered that his heart was broken.
A glimpse of Breidablick, whose walls are light as e'en the silver on the cliff it shone; of dark blue steel its columns azure height and the big altar was one agate stone. It seemed as if the air upheld alone its dome, unless supporting spirits bore it, studded with stars Odin's spangled throne, a light inscrutable burned fiercely o'er it; in sky-blue mantles, sat the gold-crowned gods before it.
Lord |
Who does not notice you in rags will not notice you in nice clothes, who notices you in rags will also notice you in nice clothes.
Eugene O'Neill, fully Eugene Gladstone O'Neill
I listen to people talking about this universal breakdown we are in and I marvel at their stupid cowardice. It is so obvious that they deliberately cheat themselves because their fear of change won't let them face the truth. They don't want to understand what has happened to them. All they want is to start the merry-go-round of blind greed all over again. They no longer know what they want this country to be, what they want it to become, where they want it to go. It has lost all meaning for them except as pig-wallow. And so their lives as citizens have no beginnings, no ends. They have lost the ideal of the Land of the Free. Freedom demands initiative, courage, the need to decide what life must mean to oneself. To them, that is terror. They explain away their spiritual cowardice by whining that the time for individualism is past, when it is their courage to possess their own souls which is dead — and stinking! No, they don't want to be free. Slavery means security — of a kind, the only kind they have courage for. It means they need not to think. They have only to obey orders from owners who are, in turn, their slaves!
This, then, is what counts: a lightning reaction which has no further need of conscious observation. In this respect at least the pupil makes himself independent of all conscious purpose.
Aims | Art | Awareness | Experience | Individual | Meaning | Means | Mind | Nothing | Power | Practice | Present | Reflection | Spirit | Work | Art | Awareness |
Ministry is a very confronting service. It does not allow people to live with illusions of immortality and wholeness. It keeps reminding others that they are mortal and broken, but also that with the recognition of this condition, liberation starts.
Experience | Friendship |
Eugene O'Neill, fully Eugene Gladstone O'Neill
For a moment I lost myself, actually lost my life. I was set free! I belonged, without past or future, within peace and unity and a wild joy, within something greater than my own life . . . to life itself. I caught a glimpse of something greater than myself.
Beauty | Dawn | Freedom | Fulfillment | Good | Joy | Life | Life | Lying | Past | Peace | Sound | Unity | Vision | Beauty | Old |
This proves that great lyric poetry can die, be reborn, die again, but will always remain one of the most outstanding creations of the human soul.
Ezra Pound, fully Ezra Weston Loomis Pound
As a mind, who the hell else is there left for me to take an interest in?
She remembered the heroines of novels she had read, and the legion of lyrical those adulterous women began to sing in her memory with sisterly voices that enchanted her. Now she saw herself as one of those whom she had love so envied: she was becoming, in reality, one of that gallery of fictional figures, long dream of her youth was coming true. He remembered the heroines of novels she read and the lyrical legion of adulterous women those began to sing in her memory with sisterly voices that enchanted her. Now she saw herself as one of those whom she had love so envied: she was becoming, in reality, one of that gallery of fictional figures, long dream of her youth was the coming true.