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Quote by Ernest Hemingway

“...a turtle’s heart will beat for hours after he has been cut up and butchered. But the old man thought, I have such a heart too and my feet and hands are like theirs.”

Book:The Old Man and the Sea

Work

The Old Man and the Sea

This renowned work delves into the life of an elderly fisherman who, despite his age and numerous setbacks, embarks on a perilous journey to catch a giant marlin. The narrative is a profound reflection on the human condition, the struggle against nature, and the enduring power of hope. more

Author

Ernest Hemingway

American author known for his concise and forceful writing style, as well as his profound insights into life. Hemingway's works cover a wide range of themes including war, adventure, and love, with notable titles such as 'The Old Man and the Sea' and 'A Farewell to Arms'. more

“From the day I met her, life has not stayed the same. It feels as if the air crackles each time when I see her. And when she smiles at me, I feel as if the clouds are showering rose petals on her and me. And when she comes closer to me then my heart bursts inside my chest with a plethora of unknown emotions and feelings.”

Love Life Heart Romance Clouds Soulmates Soulmate True Love Quotes Rose Petals

Author:Avijeet Das

“A good speech is like a miniskirt--long enough to over all the vital parts, short enough to entice and captivate listeners.”

Truth Humour Nailed

Author:Naa Shalman

“I want to be a cleaner, A person cleaner of his own heart, I want to be a bodyguard, A person guarding his own heart, I want to be a farmer, A farmer farming his own heart, I want to be a carpenter, A person crafting his own heart, I want to be a doctor, A person treating his own heart, I want to be a seeker, A person seeking his own heart, I want to be a perfect human, A person perfecting his own heart.”

Heart God Quotes Purity Heart Quotes Purification Purification Of The Heart Self Negation God Servants Self Purification

Book:The Inward Journey

Source: The Inward Journey

“The Woman Who Could Not Live With Her Faulty Heart I do not mean the symbol of love, a candy shape to decorate cakes with, the heart that is supposed to belong or break; I mean this lump of muscle that contracts like a flayed biceps, purple-blue, with its skin of suet, its skin of gristle, this isolate, this caved hermit, unshelled turtle, this one lungful of blood, no happy plateful. All hearts float in their own deep oceans of no light, wetblack and glimmering, their four mouths gulping like fish. Hearts are said to pound: this is to be expected, the heart’s regular struggle against being drowned. But most hearts say, I want, I want, I want, I want. My heart is more duplicitous, though to twin as I once thought. It says, I want, I don’t want, I want, and then a pause. It forces me to listen, and at night it is the infra-red third eye that remains open while the other two are sleeping but refuses to say what it has seen. It is a constant pestering in my ears, a caught moth, limping drum, a child’s fist beating itself against the bedsprings: I want, I don’t want. How can one live with such a heart? Long ago I gave up singing to it, it will never be satisfied or lulled. One night I will say to it: Heart, be still, and it will.”

Heart Poetry