Thursday, June 25, 2009

Ernest Hemingway & F. Scott Fitzgerald

i went out the door and suddenly i felt lonely and empty. i had treated seeing catherine very lightly, i had gotten somewhat drunk and had nearly forgotten to come but when i could not see her there i was feeling lonely and hollow.

"You said a bad driver was only safe until she met another bad driver? Well, I met another bad driver, didn't I? I mean it was careless of me to make such a wrong guess. I thought you were rather an honest, straightforward person. I thought it was your secret pride."

"I'm thirty," I said. "I'm five years too old to lie to myself and call it honor."

She didn't answer. Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.

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