Citas de El viejo y el mar

Every day is a new day. It is better to be lucky. But I would rather be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready.

Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with that there is.

Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?.

I may not be as stong as I think, but I know many tricks and I have resolution.

Most people were heartless about turtles because a turtle’s heart will beat for hours after it has been cut up and butchered. But the old man thought, I have such a heart too.

It's silly not to hope. It's a sin he thought.

It is good that we do not have to try to kill the sun or the moon or the stars. It is enough to live on the sea and kill our true brothers.

You did not kill the fish only to keep alive and to sell for food, he thought. You killed him for pride and because you are a fisherman. You loved him when he was alive and you loved him after. If you love him, it is not a sin to kill him. Or is it more?.

Fish," he said softly, aloud, "I'll stay with you until I am dead.

No one should be alone in their old age, he thought.

Fish," he said, "I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.

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.

Why did they make birds so delicate and fine as those sea swallows when the ocean can be so cruel?.

And bed, he thought. Bed is my friend. Just bed, he thought. Bed will be a great thing. It is easy when you are beaten, he thought. I never knew how easy it was. And what beat you, the thought.

The fish is my friend too... I have never seen or heard of such a fish. But I must kill him. I am glad we do not have to try to kill the stars. Imagine if each day a man must try to kill the moon, he thought. The moon runs away. But imagine if a man each day should have to try to kill the sun? We were born lucky; he thought.

I hate a cramp, he thought. It is a treachery of one's own body.

Take a good rest, small bird," he said. "Then go in and take your chance like any man or bird or fish.

Do not think about sin, he thought. There are enough problems now without sin. Also I have no understanding of it.

But, he thought, I keep them with precision. Only I have no luck anymore. But who knows? Maybe today. Every day is a new day. It is better to be lucky. But I would rather be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready.

Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with what there is.

He rested sitting on the un-stepped mast and sail and tried not to think but only to endure.

Only I have no luck any more. But who knows? Maybe today. Every day is a new day. It is better to be lucky. But I would rather be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready.

Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.

I have never seen or heard of such a fish. But I must kill him. I am glad we do not have to try to kill the stars.

Now he was proving it again. Each time was a new time and he never thought about the past when he was doing it.

She is kind and very beautiful. But she can be so cruel and it comes so suddenly and such birds that fly, dipping and hunting, with their small sad voices are made too delicately for the sea.

The clouds were building up now for the trade wind and he looked ahead and saw a flight of wild ducks etching themselves against the sky over the water, then blurring, then etching again and he knew no man was ever alone on the sea.

I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.

He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride.

Fish," the old man said. "Fish, you are going to have to die anyway. Do you have to kill me too?.

It is better to be lucky. But I would rather be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready.

His choice had been to stay in the deep dark water far out beyond all snares and traps and treacheries. My choice was to go there to find him beyond all people. Beyond all people in the world. Now we are joined together and have been since noon. And no one to help either one of us.

I wonder if he has any plans or if he is just as desperate as I am?.

But, thank God, [the fish] are not as intelligent as we who kill them; although they are more noble and more able.

But I think the Great DiMaggio would be proud of me today.

Half fish," he said. "Fish that you were. I am sorry that I went too far out. I ruined us both. But we have killed many sharks, you and I, and ruined many others. How many did you ever kill, old fish? You do not have that spear on your head for nothing.

Just before it was dark, as they passed a great island of Sargasso weed that heaved and swung in the light sea as though the ocean were making love with something under a yellow blanket, his small line was taken by a dolphin. He saw it first when it jumped in the air, true gold in the last of the sun and bending and flapping wildly in the air.

Besides, he thought, everything kills everything else in some way. Fishing kills me exactly as it keeps me alive.

He looked across the sea and knew how alone he was now. But he could see the prisms in the deep dark water and the line stretching ahead and the strange undulation of the calm. The clouds were building up now for the trade wind and he looked ahead and saw a flight of wild ducks etching themselves against the sky over the water, then blurring, then etching again and he knew no man was ever alone on the sea.

Neither for you nor for me. I’m sorry, fish.

The fish is my friend too," he said aloud. "I have never seen or heard of such a fish. But I must kill him. I am glad we do not have to try to kill the stars.

What kind of a hand is that,' he said. 'Cramp then if you want. Make yourself into a claw. It will do you no good.

During the night two porpoises came around the boat and he could hear them rolling and blowing. He could tell the difference between the blowing noise the male made and the sighing blow of the female. 'They are good,' he said. 'They play and make jokes and love one another. They are our brothers like the flying fish.