The one who is doing his work and getting satisfaction from it is not the one the poverty bothers.
Ernest HemingwayYou know I don't love any one but you. You shouldn't mind because some one else loved me.
Ernest HemingwayThe brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert.
Ernest Hemingway