What Is The Beautiful, If Not The

But An Infinity Of Passions Can Be Contained In A Minute, Like A Crowd In A Tiny Space.

The True Poet For Me Is A Priest. As Soon As He Dons The Cassock, He Must Leave His Family.

Antiquite . En Tout Ce Qui S'y Rapporte: Est Poncif, Embe" Tant! Etc. Antiquity. And Everything To Do With It, Cliche D And Boring.

Stupidity Is Something Unshakable; Nothing Attacks It Without Breaking Itself Against It; It Is Of The Nature Of Granite, Hard And Resistant.

Madame Aubain's Servant Felicite Was The Envy Of The Ladies Of Pont-l'eveque For Half A Century.