Ernest Hemingway

“Fish,” he said, “I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.”

Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated

No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.”

He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, nor of great fish, nor fights, nor contests of strength, nor of his wife.

He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, nor of great fish, nor fights, nor contests of strength, nor of his wife.

But I would rather be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready.

Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.

lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats come riding through it.

He lived along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf roar and saw the native boats come riding through it.

But he liked to think about all things that he was involved in and since there was nothing to read and he did not have a radio, he thought much and he kept on thinking about sin. You did not kill the fish only to keep alive and to sell for food, he thought. You killed him for pride and because you are a fisherman. You loved him when he was alive and you loved him after. If you love him, it is not a sin to kill him. Or is it more?