bell notificationshomepageloginedit profileclubsdmBox

Practice and improve writing style. Write like Ernest Hemingway

Improve your writing style by practicing using this free tool

Practice and improve your writing style below

Below, I have some random texts from popular authors. All you have to do is, spend some time daily, and type these lines in the box below. And, eventually, your brain picks the writing style, and your own writing style improves!

Practice writing like:

Type these lines in the boxes below to practice and improve your writing style.

always had a great tolerance which seemed the nicest thing about him if it were not the most sinister. *

 

' "Well," said Olz, "when she died I made the report to the commune and I put her in the shed across the top of the big wood. When I started to use the big wood she was stiff and I put her up against the wall. Her mouth was open and when I came into the shed at night to cut up the big wood, I hung the lantern from it."

 

They bowed before the president, and the procession broke up into its component parts. The bull-fighters went over to the barrera and changed their heavy mantles for the light fighting capes. The mules went out. The picadors galloped jerkily around the ring, and two rode out the gate they had come in by. The servants swept the sand smooth.

 

On our return to Milan I recall one or two of us discussing the occurrence and agreeing that the quality of unreality and the fact that there were no wounded did much to rob the disaster of a horror which might have been much greater. Also the fact that it had been so immediate and that the dead were in consequence still as little unpleasant as possible to carry and deal with made it quite removed from the usual battlefield experience. The pleasant, though dusty, ride through the beautiful Lombard countryside also was a compensation for the unpleasantness of the duty and on our return, while we exchanged impressions, we all agreed that

 

very lush and evergreen since he had seen it last and becoming historical had made no change in this, the lower river.

 

'It is a very lovely portrait,' the Gran Maestro said. 'But it should be taken to the room. One should never let Roederer or Perrier-Jouet do the talking.'

 

'St Mark's square is where the pigeons are and where they have that big cathedral that looks sort of like a moving picture palace, isn't it?'

 

'Except for us,' the Gran Maestro said. 'Now I must go and see how the steak marches.'

 

'I couldn't agree more fully, General. Because I wrote the book myself,' his best friend said. 'But suppose they had left something there?'

 

'Yes. Most of the people inside of it. It makes men into bullies which is the first step towards cowardice; true cowardice, I mean. Perhaps it is a little complicated by claustrophobia.'

 

“Well, well,” he said. “I knew you were in a motor-car from the way the dust was.” So I gave him two copper coins.

 

“Eat? Why didn’t you say eat? I thought you just wanted me to get up for fun. Eat? Fine. Now you’re reasonable. You go out and dig some more worms and I’ll be right down.”

 

Anyhow, we were sitting on the terrace of the Café Select, and Harvey Stone had just crossed the street.

 

“That’s what you want to do. Travel while you’re young. Mother and I always wanted to get over, but we had to wait a while.”

 

We came around a curve into a town, and on both sides opened out a sudden green valley. A stream went through the centre of the town and fields of grapes touched the houses.

 

Trending!

 

Back to top