Love is just another dirty lie. Love is ergoapiol pills to make me come around because you were afraid to have a baby. Love is quinine and quinine and quinine until I'm deaf with it. Love is that dirty aborting horror that you took me to. Love is my insides all messed up. It's half catheters and half whirling douches. I know about love. Love always hangs up behind the bathroom door. It smells like lysol. To hell with love. Love is making me happy and then going off to sleep with your mouth open while I lie awake all night afraid to say my prayers even because I know I have no right to anymore. Love is all the dirty little tricks you taught me that you probably got out of some book. All right. I'm through with you and I'm through with love. Your kind of pick-nose love. ( To Have and Have Not)
More from Ernest Hemingway
Got tight last night on absinthe and did knife tricks. Great success shooting the knife underhand into the piano.
Permalink to quote #141 There is no hunting like the hunting of man. And those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter.
Permalink to quote #143 There are only three sports; car racing, bull fighting and mountain climbing. The rest are mere games.
Permalink to quote #140