In de muziekles zong zij liedjes over niets dan engeltjes met gouden vleugels, madonna's, meren, gondeliers: rimpelloze romances die haar tussen de beuzelachtige woorden en de onbeholpen klanken door...
Madame Bovary was nog nooit zo mooi geweest als nu; zij bezat de raadselachtige schoonheid die uit vreugde, geestdrift en succes voortspruit, een schoonheid die ontstaat wanneer de aard van het wezen...
Le charme de la nouveauté, peu à peu tombant comme un vêtement, laissait voir à nu l'éternelle monotonie de la passion, qui a toujours les mêmes formes et le même langage.
I'd like to be in love like this description, wouldn't you?...they moved among the carriages, the crowds, the noise, oblivious of everything but themselves, hearing nothing, as if they had been walkin...
Charles went to kiss her shoulder.-Leave me alone! she said, you're creasing my dress.
Haven't you ever happened to come across in a book some vague notion that you've had, some obscure idea that returns from afar and that seems to express completely your most subtle feelings?
Na zoveel onenigheid hadden ze elkaar ten slotte gevonden in dezelfde menselijke zwakheid; en zij verroerden zich al net zomin als het lijk naast hen, dat eveneens door de slaap scheen overmand
I believe that if one always looked at the skies, one would end up with wings.
Emigres: Earned their livelihood by giving guitar lessons and mixing salads.
Et l'ennui, araignée silencieuse, filait sa toile dans l'ombre, à tous les coins de son coeur.
She wanted to get some personal profit out of things, and she rejected as useless all that did not contribute to the immediate desires of her heart, being of a temperament more sentimental than artist...
Well, quite softly, one day following another, a spring on a winter, and an autumn after a summer, this wore away, piece by piece, crumb by crumb; it passed away, it is gone, I should say it has sunk;...
Life must be a constant education one must learn everything, from speaking to dying.
Deep in her soul, however, she was waiting for something to happen. Like a sailor in distress, she would gaze out over the solitude of her life with desperate eyes, seeking some white sail in the mist...
Contact with the world, with which I have been steadily rubbing shoulders now for fourteen months, makes me feel more and more like returning to my shell. I hate the crowd, the herd. It seems to me al...
But how nothingness invades us! We are scarcely born ere decay begins for us, in such a way that the whole of life is but one long combat with it, more and more triumphant, on its part, to the consumm...
Irony takes nothing away from pathos.
Alles eek haar gehuld in een zwart waas dat over het oppervlak van de dingen zweefde, en het verdriet trok zacht huilend door haar ziel, als de winterwind door een verlaten kasteel. Het was zo'n mijme...
Poetry is as precise a thing as geometry.
Oh, if I had been loved at the age of seventeen, what an idiot I would be today. Happiness is like smallpox: if you catch it too soon, it can completely ruin your constitution.