His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterflys wings. At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred. – Ernest Hemingway
They wrote in the old days that it is sweet and fitting to die for ones country. But in modern war, there is nothing sweet nor fitting in your dying. You will die like a dog for no good reason. – Ernest Hemingway
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