A Quote by Ernest Hemingway

I hate a cramp, he thought. It is a treachery of one's own body. — © Ernest Hemingway
I hate a cramp, he thought. It is a treachery of one's own body.
There is always the threat of tomorrow's treachery, or next year's treachery, or the treachery implicit in all the tomorrows beyond that.
Insecurity breeds treachery: if you are kind to people who hate themselves, they will hate you as well.
He thought with a kind of astonishment of the biological uselessness of pain and fear, the treachery of the human body which always freezes into inertia at exactly the moment when a special effort is needed.
To tell your own secrets is generally folly, but that folly is without guilt; to communicate those with which we are intrusted is always treachery, and treachery for the most part combined with folly.
You have to look at your own thought forms. Are you sitting around and thinking a lot of negative thoughts? These injure the subtle body. When you hate, when you are angry, you bring that energy through you.
...I thought how I hate any kind of mob - I hate mobs of sports fans, mobs of environmental demonstrators, I even hate mobs of super-models, that's how much I hate mobs. I tell you, mankind is bearable only when you get him on his own.
Trump can be damned to all hell with his enclosed little world in which no thought is possible. But it's the encouraging of half the people of America and many more besides to hate words, hate what words can do, hate thought, hate the liberal, the sophisticated, the metropolitan. It's anger-making.
I have learned to hate all traitors, and there is no disease that I spit on more than treachery.
When an administration embarks on a war justified by little or no intelligence, speaking the truth can be regarded as treachery. The country could use more of that kind of "treachery".
When all the stars were falling, they fell from above, and I thought of hate, and I thought of hate, and then I thought of love.
I hate birthdays. I thought that I only hated my own birthday, and then I realized that I hate my children's birthdays too.
Christianity does not want us to reduce by one atom the hatred we feel for cruelty and treachery. We ought to hate them. Not one word of what we have said about them needs to be unsaid. But it does want us to hate them in the same way in which we hate things in ourselves: being sorry that the man should have done such things, and hoping, if it is anyway possible, that somehow, sometime, somewhere he can be cured and made human again.
I'm feeling alright, I am pretty happy with it. I was trying to catch her, around 37k my calf started to cramp on me a little so I had to make sure to run smart so I didn't completely cramp up. When the Aussie caught me I figured my medal contention might be up but I ended up catching 4th.
I'm frustrated with the fact that it's harder to remember things now because I can so easily find them on the Web. I hate the way I have to work at reading; a pastime that once brought nothing but relaxation and joy. I hate the Internet's addictive qualities, as I watch my own grandchildren - whose brains are still being developed - want to be on devices so much. I hate what technology bodes for our culture, but even more for the body of Christ.
Instead of hating the people you think are war-makers, hate the appetites and disorder in your own soul, which are the causes of war. If you love peace, then hate injustice, hate tyranny, hate greed - but hate these things in yourself, not in another.
The worst thing thou has to fear is the treachery of thine own heart.
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