A man can be destroyed but not defeated.
Fish, I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.
My soul is in the sky.
The sea is dangerous and its storms terrible, but these obstacles have never been sufficient reason to remain ashore.
Every man’s life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.
There is no greater glory than to die doing what you love.
The best way to observe a fish is to become a fish.
Luck is a thing that comes in many forms and who can recognize her?
A man can be destroyed but not defeated.
Fish, I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.
I am a tired old man. I need an awful lot of sleep.
Failure is not defeat until you stop trying.
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.
He always thought of the sea as ‘la mar’ which is what people call her in Spanish when they love her.
It was considered a virtue not to talk unnecessarily at sea, and the old man had always considered it so and respected it.
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.
No one should be alone in their old age, he thought. But it is unavoidable.
Fish, he said, I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.
The clouds and the rain go together, he thought.
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 of the lions on the beach.
Luck, you see, brings bitter friends.
He remembered the time he took his lines and went over the side of the skiff. For what? To gain something? No, to prove that he was a man. He took all risks to prove it.
He always thought of the sea as ‘la mar,’ which is what people call her in Spanish when they love her.
But after forty days without a fish, the boy’s parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao.
Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.
Perhaps I should not have been a fisherman, he thought. But that was the thing that I was born for.
We would have such a good time together, he thought. I wish I could show him what sort of man I am.
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.
He always thought of the sea as ‘la mar,’ which is what people call her in Spanish when they love her.
Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with what you have.
There is no one worthy of eating him from the manner of his behavior and his great dignity.
But man is not made for defeat. A man can be destroyed but not defeated.
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.
The boy has been with a real fisherman, he thought.
Almost anything could be a bait. No? Certain Shell. Certain bird and their feathers. The innards of certain fish. But not feathers. No, I must find a way to protect the feathers in the baits.
Now we fish together again.
Then he began to pity the great fish that he had hooked. He is wonderful and strange and who knows how old he is, he thought. Never have I had such a strong fish nor one who acted so strangely. Perhaps he is too wise to jump. He could ruin me by jumping or by a wild rush. But perhaps he has been hooked many times before and he knows that this is how he should make his fight. He cannot know it is only one man against him, nor that it is an old man. But what a great fish he is and what will he bring in the market if the flesh is good. He took the bait like a male and he pulls like a male and his fight has no panic in it. I wonder if he has plans or if he is just as desperate as I am?
I may not be as strong as I think, the old man said. But I know many tricks and I have resolution.
The old man loved him very much.
No one should be alone in their old age.”
There is nothing we can do about him… Now are you more calm?
Why do old men always wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?
He remembered the time he took his lines and went over the side of the boat into the blue water, where he sailed a long way underwater and swam back in the dark under the boat, towing the fish behind him. Then he had hooked the fish through the jaws and put the tiller under his lashings to steer back to the harbor while he bailed the water out with a can tied onto a paddling boat.
Fish, he said, I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.
Man is not made for defeat, he said. A man can be destroyed but not defeated.
Tomorrow is the day, he said aloud.
To be brave, he thought. One must have fear. Where do we find this fear, without being in danger?
But 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 were born to be a fisherman as the fish was born to be a fish…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, I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.
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