Thursday, July 05, 2007

A farewell to arms ... and innocence

"I had gone to no such place but to the smoke of cafes and nights when the room whirled and you needed to look at the wall to make it stop, nights in bed, drunk, when you knew that that was all there was, and the strange excitement of waking and not knowing who it was with you, and the world all unreal in the dark and so exciting that you must resume again unknowing and not caring in the night, sure that this was all and all and all and not caring. Suddenly to care very much and to sleep and to wake with it sometimes morning and all that had been there gone and everything sharp and hard and clear ... Sometimes still pleasant and fond and warm and breakfast and lunch. Sometimes all niceness gone and glad to get out on the street but always another day starting and then another night. I tried to tell about the night ... and I could not tell it; as I cannot tell it now. But if you have had it you know."
- Ernest Hemingway, "A Farewell to Arms"

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