Tuesday, May 15, 2012

The Meals

A wine shop was open and I went in for some coffee. It smelled of early morning, of swept dust, spoons in coffee-glasses and the wet circles left by wine-glasses.
A Farewell to Arms (1929)
Ernest Hemingway

Life is weather. Life is meals. Lunches on a blue-checked cloth on which salt has spilled. The smell of tobacco. Brie, yellow apples, wood-handled knives.
Light Years (1975)
James Salter

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