He dreamed of funeral love, but dreams crumble and the tomb abides
I love my work with a frenetic and perverse love, as an ascetic loves the hair shirt which scratches his belly.
Enjôleur,
What baffled him was that there should be all this fuss about something so simple as love.
This haze of blood must subside, the palace must collapse under the weight of the riches it conceals, the orgy must finish and the time come to awaken.
There is always after the death of anyone a kind of stupefaction; so difficult is it to grasp this advent of nothingness and to resign ourselves to believe in it.
She loved the sea only for the sake of its storms, and the green fields only when broken up by ruins.
She did not believe that things could remain the same in different places, and since the portion of her life that lay behind her had been bad, no doubt that which remained to be lived would be better.
Pauvre petite femme! Ça baîlle après l'amour, comme une carpe après l'eau sur une table de cuisine. Avec trois mots de galanterie, cela vous adorerait, j'en suis sûr! ce serait tendre! charmannt!... O...
Oh, to blijedo zimsko sunce! Ono je žalosno kao uspomena na sreću.
Madame was in her room upstairs. She wore an open dressing gown that showed between the shawl facings of her bodice a pleated chamisette with three gold buttons. Her belt was a corded girdle with grea...
Les deux femmes, vêtues de noir, remirent le corps dans le lit de ma sœur, elles jetèrent dessus des fleurs et de l’eau bénite, puis, lorsque le soleil eut fini de jeter dans l’appartement sa lueur ro...
Je suis né avec le désir de mourir.
Isn’t ‘not to be bored’ one of the principal goals of life?
I'm the sort of man who's doomed to be a failure and I'll go to my grave without ever knowing whether I was real gold or just tinsel!
He leaned against the writing desk and stayed there till nightfall, lost in sorrowful thoughts. After all, she had loved him.
For two nights Félicité never left the dead girl. She said the same prayers over and over again, sprinkled holy water on the sheets, then sat down again to watch. At the end of her first vigil, she no...
Emma se sentí satisfeta interiorment creient que havia assolit d'un sol cop aquell rar ideal propi de les existències pàl·lides al qual els cors mediocres no podran arribar mai.
Doesn't it seem to you, asked Madame Bovary, that the mind moves more freely in the presence of that boundless expanse, that the sight of it elevates the soul and gives rise to thoughts of the infinit...
Charles’ conversation was as flat as a street pavement, on which everybody’s ideas trudged past, in their workaday dress, provoking no emotion, no laughter, no dreams.