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In the morning there was a big wind blowing and the waves were running high up on the beach and he was awake a long time before he remembered that his heart was broken.
Ernest Hemingway
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Interpretation

What this quote means

The quote reflects on the struggle of dealing with emotional pain amidst the chaos of life.

This quote captures the essence of human resilience and the emotional turmoil that often goes unnoticed in the face of nature's beauty. Hemingway illustrates how life's external events, like the wind and waves, continue unabated while internally, one grapples with personal grief. It highlights the contrast between the power of nature and the fragility of human emotion, suggesting that even in sorrow, the world continues to turn.

Themes

HeartbreakResilienceNatureGriefAwareness

In practice

Example use cases

This quote can be used in a speech about overcoming emotional challenges.

More from Ernest Hemingway

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 only dreamed of places now and the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on.
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How did you go bankrupt?" Two ways. Gradually, then suddenly.
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When you have shot one bird flying you have shot all birds flying. They are all different and they fly in different ways but the sensation is the same and the last one is as good as the first.
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There is never any ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. We always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed or with what difficulties, or ease, it could be reached. Paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it. But this is how Paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy.
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Wine is the most civilized thing in the world.
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There is no rule on how to write. Sometimes it comes easily and perfectly; sometimes it's like drilling rock and then blasting it out with charges.
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