Ernest Hemingway. For whom the bell tolls (№ 191485)

Die - this word meant nothing, it does not cause any picture before my eyes and did not inspire fear. But life is meant Niva, wavering in the wind on a hillside. To live meant hawk in the sky. To live meant a clay pitcher of water after threshing, when the floor is dust and chaff scatters in all directions. To live meant cool the horse's flanks, short schenkel, and the carbine across the saddle, and hill, and valley, and the river and the trees along the shore, and the far end of the valley, and the mountains behind.