Dying nothing no picture fear mind. living a field grain blowing wind — Ernest Hemingway, Bell Tolls

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Dying was nothing and he had no picture of it nor fear of it in his mind. But living was a field of grain blowing in the wind on the side of a hill. Living was a hawk in the sky. Living was an earthen jar of water in the dust of the threshing with the grain flailed out and the chaff blowing. Living was a horse between your legs and a carbine under one leg and a hill and a valley and a stream with trees along it and the far side of the valley and the hills beyond.

Ernest Hemingway, For Whom the Bell Tolls

Related Authors: Ernest Hemingway | For Whom The Bell Tolls

Related Topics: death, dying, ernest-hemingway, for-whom-the-bell-tolls, life, living

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