Il Faut D'abord Durer (first One Must

Part Of You Died Each Year When The Leaves Fell From The Trees And Their Branches Were Bare Against The Wind And The Cold, Wintry Light.

You've Such A Lovely Temperature.

Don't Get Discouraged Because There's A Lot Of Mechanical Work To Writing. I Rewrote The First Part Of Farewell To Arms At Least Fifty Times.

No Writer Who Knows The Great Writers Who Did Not Receive The Prize Can Accept It Other Than With Humility. There Is No Need To List These Writers. Everyone Here May Make His Own List According To His Knowledge And His Conscience.

Perhaps I Should Not Have Been A Fisherman, He Thought. But That Was The Thing That I Was Born For.