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Quotes by French Authors - Page 86

Certainly I believe in luck. How else do you explain the success of those you don't like?
Jean Cocteau
Without the fear of God, men do not even observe justice and charity among themselves.
John Calvin
People can have many different kinds of pleasure. The real one is that for which they will forsake the others.
Marcel Proust
As long as one believes in philosophy, one is healthy; sickness begins when one starts to think.
Emil M. Cioran
Our judgements about things vary according to the time left us to live -that we think is left us to live.
André Gide
Beauty belongs to the sphere of the simple, the ordinary, whilst ugliness is something extraordinary, and there is no question but that every ardent imagination prefers in lubricity, the extraordinary to the commonplace
Marquis de Sade
For me painting is a way to forget life. It is a cry in the night a strangled laugh.
Georges Rouault
Time is a river without banks.
Marc Chagall
If there are people at once rich and content, be assured that they are content because they know how to be so, not because they are rich
Charles Wagner
Favoring 'resolution' the way we do, it is hard for us men to write great love stories. Why?, because we want to tell too much. We aren’t satisfied unless at the end of the story the characters are lying there, panting.
Roman Payne
Capi will learn to read before you, Remi.
Hector Malot
To create is to live twice.
Albert Camus
Flowers are so inconsistent!
Antoine De Saint Exupery
There comes a time in history when the man who dares to say that two and two make four is punished with death. The schoolteacher is well aware of this. And the question is not one of knowing what punishment or reward attends the making of this calculation. The question is that of knowing whether two and two do make four.
Albert Camus
I can always choose, but I ought to know that if I do not choose, I am still choosing.
Jean-Paul Sartre
Don’t wait up for me tonight, for the night will be black and white.
Gérard de Nerval
Between the desolate earth and the colorless sky appeared an Image of the ungrateful world in which, for the first time, he came to himself at last. On this earth, restored to the despair of innocence, a traveler lost in a primitive world, he regained contact, and with his list pressed to his chest, his face flattened against the glass, he calculated his hunger for himself and for the certainty of the splendors dormant within him. He wanted to crush himself into that mud, to reenter the earth by immersing himself in that clay, to stand on that limitless plain covered with dirt, stretching his arms to the sooty sponge of the sky, as though confronting the superb and despairing symbol of life itself, to affirm his solidarity with the world at its worst, to declare himself life's accomplice even in its thanklessness and its filth. Then the great impulse that had sustained him collapsed for the first time since he left Prague. Mersault pressed his tears and his lips against the cold pane. Again the glass blurred, the landscape disappeared.
Albert Camus
Repudiating the virtues of your world, criminals hopelessly agree to organize a forbidden universe. They agree to live in it. The air there is nauseating: they can breathe it.
Jean Genet
Our passions are ourselves.
Anatole France
Would that thy love, beloved, had less trust in me, that it might be more anxious!
Héloïse d'Argenteuil
In a moment, when I throw myself down among the absinthe plants to bring their scent into my body, I shall know, appearances to the contrary, that I am fulfilling a truth which is the sun's and which will also be my death's. In a sense, it is indeed my life that I am staking here, a life that tastes of warm stone, that is full of the signs of the sea and the rising song of the crickets. The breeze is cool and the sky blue. I love this life with abandon and wish to speak of it boldly: it makes me proud of my human condition. Yet people have often told me: there's nothing to be proud of. Yes, there is: this sun, this sea, my heart leaping with youth, the salt taste of my body and this vast landscape in which tenderness and glory merge in blue and yellow. It is to conquer this that I need my strength and my resources. Everything here leaves me intact, I surrender nothing of myself, and don no mask: learning patiently and arduously how to live is enough for me, well worth all their arts of living.
Albert Camus
The relief of opening one's hand and letting go was immense. But soon after, I tightened again. A desire for revenge, a strange revenge.
Anaïs Nin
Do not forget, do not ever forget, that you have promised me to use the money to make yourself an honest man.'Valjean, who did not recall having made any promise, was silent. The bishop had spoken the words slowly and deliberately. He concluded with a solemn emphasis:Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to what is evil but to what is good. I have bought your soul to save it from black thoughts and the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God.
Victor Hugo
Proclaim your pride and bitterness loudly to the world, but to me speak softly, and tell me simply that she doesn't love you.
Edmond Rostand
Daydream, which is to thought as the nebula is to the star, borders on sleep, and is concerned with it as its frontier. An atmosphere inhabited by living transparencies: there's a beginning of the unknown. But beyond it the Possible opens out, immense.Other beings, other facts, are there. No supernaturalism, only the occult continuation of infinite nature. . . . Sleep is in contact with the Possible, which we also call the improbable. The world of the night is a world. Night, as night, is a universe. . . . The dark things of the unknown world become neighbors of man, whether by true communication or by a visionary enlargement of the distances of the abyss . . . and the sleeper, not quite seeing, not quite unconscious, glimpses the strange animalities, weird vegetations, terrible or radiant pallors, ghosts, masks, figures, hydras, confusions, moonless moonlights, obscure unmakings of miracle, growths and vanishings within a murky depth, shapes floating in shadow, the whole mystery which we call Dreaming, and which is nothing other than the approach of an invisible reality. The dream is the aquarium of Night.
Victor Hugo
Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.
Antoine De Saint Exupery
If you believe what you say, words become reality.
Ingrid Betancourt
Let us leave pretty women to men without imagination.
Marcel Proust
I had fought on behalf of man against the sea, but I realised that it had become more urgent to fight on behalf of the sea against men.
Alain Bombard
It is an aspect of all happiness to suppose that we deserve it.
Joseph Joubert
I don't trust words. I trust pictures.
Gilles Peress
Although really society should not change, it should mutate. And, little by little, it is mutating...... Society is like the body of a chicken: the chicken's foot is hard and insensitive while the eye is very alive. And there are beings who embody the cells of the eyes and others who embody the cells of the feet, of the wings, or of the anus.
Alejandro Jodorowsky
Work, work, proletarians, to increase social wealth and your individual poverty; work, work, in order that becoming poorer, you may have more reason to work and become miserable. Such is the inexorable law of capitalist production.
Paul Lafargue
The struggle alone pleases us not the victory.
Blaise Pascal
The past not merely is not fugitive it remains present.
Marcel Proust
The free worker receives a wage; the slave an education, food, care, clothing; the money that the master spends to keep the slave is drained little by little and in detail; one hardly perceives it.1
Alexis de Tocqueville
When an idea is too weak to support a simple statement it is a sign that it should be rejected.
Vauvenargues
Happy?" asked Aquilina, with dreadful look, and a smile full of pity and terror. "Ah, you do not know what it is to be condemned to a life of pleasure.
Honoré de Balzac
Consistency is only suitable for ridicule.
Molière
Be yourself. The world worships the original.
Jean Cocteau
No peace is possible between the novelist and the agélaste [those who do not laugh]. Never having heard God's laughter, the agélastes are convinced that the truth is obvious, that all men necessarily think the same thing, and that they themselves are exactly what they think they are. But it is precisely in losing the certainty of truth and the unanimous agreement of others that man becomes an individual. The novel is the imaginary paradise of individuals. It is the territory where no one possesses the truth, neither Anna nor Karenin, but where everyone has the right to be understood, both Anna and Karenin.
Milan Kundera
What a man Balzac would have been if he had known how to write.
Gustave Flaubert
What causes us to like new acquaintances is not so much weariness of our old ones or the pleasure of change as disgust at not being sufficiently admired by those who know us too well and the hope of being admired more by those who do not know so much about us.
François de La Rochefoucauld
A day came when I should have died, and after that nothing seemed very important. So I have stayed as I am, without regret, separated from the normal human condition.
Guy Sajer
Of all our faults the one that we excuse most easily is idleness.
La Rochefoucauld
Any healthy man can go without food for two days--but not without poetry.
Charles Baudelaire
Nothing thwarts happiness so much as the memory of happiness.
André Gide
Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive.
Anaïs Nin
All the fame I look for in life is to have lived it quietly.
Michel de Montaigne
It is at despair at not being able to be noble and beautiful by natural means that we have made up our faces so strangely.
Charles Baudelaire
As if this great outburst of anger had purged all my ills, killed all my hopes, I looked up at the mass of signs and stars in the night sky and laid myself open for the first time to the benign indifference of the world- and finding it so much like myself, in fact so fraternal, I realized that I’d been happy, and that I was still happy. For the final consummation and for me to feel less lonely, my last wish was that there should be a crowd of spectators at my execution and that they should greet me with cries of hatred.
Albert Camus
Here the phenomenologist has nothing in common with the literary critic who, as has frequently been noted, judges a work that he could not create and, if we are to believe certain facile condemnations, would not want to create. A literary critic is a reader who is necessarily severe. By turning inside out like a glove an overworked complex that has become debased to the point of being part of the vocabulary of statesmen, we might say that the literary critic and the professor of rhetoric, who know-all and judge-all, readily go in for a simplex of superiority. As for me, being an addict of felicitous reading, I only read and re-read what I like, with a bit of reader's pride mixed in with much enthusiasm.
Gaston Bachelard
A word is not the same with one writer as it is with another. One tears it from his guts. The other pulls it out of his overcoat pocket.
Charles Péguy
Vertigo is something else than the fear of falling. It is the voice of emptiness below us which temps and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defense ourselves.
Milan Kundera
He who thinks himself wise O heavens! is a great fool.
Voltaire
Whoever teaches without emancipating stultifies.
Jacques Rancière
And involuntarily I compared the childish sarcasm, the religious sarcasm of Voltaire with the irresistible irony of the German philosopher whose influence is henceforth ineffaceable.
Guy de Maupassant
We live in that grave, in those clothes, in the pressure between nothing and everything, we live by perpetual movement from place to place but we want oh we so much want to escape to say it all to come home at last to the right place our rightful place our rightful space. As if that was possible.
Gabriel Josipovici
Ever since history has been written, ever since philosophy has meditated, misery has been the garment of the human race.
Victor Hugo
Say not: I live today, I shall die tomorrow. Divide not reality between life and death. Say: now I live and die.
Marcel Schwob
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