There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.
Send submissions to hannahmiet at gmail dot com. Also, please follow my personal Tumblr: Don't think twice, s'aight.
He was in despair.”
“How do you know it was nothing?”
“He ‘has plenty of money.
A Clean Well-Lighted Place, Ernest Hemingway (via mr-trevor)
Ernest Hemingway was kind of a hunk back in the day…
It smelled of early morning, of swept dust, spoons in coffee-glasses and the wet circles left by wine glasses.
— Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms. (via alexismyfriend)