Ernest Hemingway | The Torrents of Spring | 1926

Dear Yogi,

When I see a squaw, I think the way you do, which is that I am gripped by a new feeling, and something rises up inside me, and I consider rushing forth and conquering the frontier. Sometimes I imagine that there is a horse between my legs and I whip it. That is what happens when I see a squaw.

Sincerely,
Robert McDonald