Quote by Ernest Hemingway
The good parts of a book may be only something a writer is lucky e

The good parts of a book may be only something a writer is lucky enough to overhear or it may be the wreck of his whole damn life and one is as good as the other. – Ernest Hemingway

Other quotes by Ernest Hemingway

It wasnt by accident that the Gettysburg address was so short. The laws of prose writing are as immutable as those of flight, of mathematics, of physics. – Ernest Hemingway

Category:
Brevity
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Switzerland is a small, steep country, much more up and down than sideways, and is all stuck over with large brown hotels built on the cuckoo clock style of architecture. – Ernest Hemingway

Category:
architecture
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To be a successful father… theres one absolute rule: when you have a kid, dont look at it for the first two years. – Ernest Hemingway

Category:
Father
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Other Quotes from
good
category

We must not discriminate between things. Where things are concerned there are no class distinctions. We must pick out what is good for us where we can find it. – Pablo Picasso

Category:
good

Destiny is a good thing to accept when its going your way. When it isnt, dont call it destiny call it injustice, treachery, or simple bad luck. – Joseph Heller

Category:
good

I shall never be ashamed of citing a bad author if the line is good. – Lucius Annaeus Seneca

Category:
good

Suspicion is the companion of mean souls, and the bane of all good society. – Thomas Paine

Category:
good

Random Quotes

Are bombs the only way of setting fire to the spirit of a people? Is the human will as inert as the past two world-wide wars would indicate? – Gregory Clark

Category:
War

Lovers may be – and indeed generally are – enemies, but they never can be friends, because there must always be a spice of jealousy and a something of Self in all their speculations. – Lord Byron

Category:
Jealousy

Marriage, for a woman at least, hampers the two things that made life to me glorious – friendship and learning. – Jane Harrison

Category:
Friendship

Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree. – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Category:
Night