And indeed, what is better than to sit by one's fireside in the evening with a book, while the wind beats against… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
My God, this novel makes me break out in a cold sweat! Do you know how much I've written in five months,… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Writing this book I am like a man playing the piano with lead balls attached to his knuckles. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
In her enthusiasms she had always looked for something tangible: she had always loved church for its flowers, music for its romantic… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“Pellerin used to read every available book on aesthetics, in the hope of discovering the true theory of Beauty, for he was… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Melancholy is a sensual pleasure that is deliberately provoked. How many people shut themselves away to make themselves sadder, or to weep… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“For six months, then, Emma, at fifteen years of age, made her hands dirty with books from old lending libraries.” — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“What a scholar one might be if one knew well only some half a dozen books.” — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“In his earliest youth, he had drawn inspiration from really bad authors, as you may have seen from his style; as he… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“One thinks of nothing,’ he continued; ‘the hours slip by. Motionless we traverse countries we fancy we see, and your thought, blinding… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
What seems beautiful to me, what I should like to write, is a book about nothing, a book dependent on nothing external,… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“Has it ever happened to you," Léon went on, "to come across some vague idea of one's own in a book, some… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“Never have things of the spirit counted for so little. Never has hatred for everything great been so manifest – disdain for… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“One ought to know everything, to write. All of us scribblers are monstrously ignorant. If only we weren’t lacking in stamina, what… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Books aren't made in the way that babies are: they are made like pyramids. There's some long-pondered plan, and then great blocks… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
I took Eugene Sue's Arthur from the reading-room. It's indescribable, enough to make you vomit. You have to read this to realize… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
They took each other's advice, opened one book, went over to another, then did not know what to decide when opinions diverged… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Books are made not like children but like pyramids and they're just as useless! And they stay in the desert! Jackals piss… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
What better occupation, really, than to spend the evening at the fireside with a book, with the wind beating on the windows… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Sentences must stir in a book like leaves in a forest, each distinct from each despite their resemblance. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
What I would like to write is a book about nothing, a book without exterior attachments, which would be held together by… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“So long as there is gold underneath, who cares about the dust on top? Literature! That old whore! We must try to… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“Do not read as children do to enjoy themselves, or, as the ambitious do to educate themselves. No, read to live.” — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
The author, in his work, must be like God in the Universe, present everywhere and visible nowhere. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“There is a place they call La Pature, on the top of the hill, on the edge of the forest. Sometimes, on… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
As for the piano, the faster her fingers flew over it, the more he marveled. She struck the keys with aplomb and ran from… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Caught up in life, you see it badly. You suffer from it or enjoy it too much. The artist, in my opinion, is a… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“When one does something, one must do it wholly and well. Those bastard existences where you sell suet all day and write poetry at… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“But her life was as cold as an attic facing north; and boredom, like a silent spider, was weaving its web in the shadows,… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
When you reduce a woman to writing, she makes you think of a thousand other women — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
A superhuman will is needed in order to write, and I am only a man. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
The writer must wade into life as into the sea, but only up to the navel. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
