Sublime

I scarce know how to put my story into words that shall be a credible picture of my state of mind; but I was in these days literally able to find a joy in the extraordinary flight of heroism the occasion demanded of me. I now saw that I had been asked for a service admirable and difficult; and there would be a greatness in letting it be seen – oh i

“We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master,” Hemingway mused.

I phoned Ernest and he urged me to conclude my royal interrogatory and come to the Gritti. He said, “I have a new Lancia with a good professional driver to take us over the Alps and along the Corniche to Pamplona for the Feria of San Fermín. Would like your company on the trip. I’m beat up from those kites falling all over Africa.” In the past he h

Ernest already had plans for the royalties from the book. He was going to establish a trust fund for his family with the earnings from the first 70,000 copies; everything beyond that was going toward the purchase of a boat.

“They must have taken a quarter of him and of the best meat,” he said aloud. “I wish it were a dream and that I had never hooked him. I’m sorry about it, fish. It makes everything wrong.” He stopped and he did not want to look at the fish now. Drained of blood and awash he looked the colour of the silver backing of a minor and his stripes still sho