Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“How she listened, the first time, to the sonorous lamentations of romantic melancholia echoing out across heaven and earth! If her childhood… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Noble characters and pure affections and happy scenes are very comforting things. They're a refuge from life's disillusionments. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
He was bored now when Emma suddenly began to sob on his breast; and his heart, like the people who can only… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Didn't love, like a plant from India, require a prepared soil, a particular temperature? Sighs in the moonlight, long embraces, tears flowing… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“It is a delightful thing to write, to cease to be oneself, to flow through the whole creation of which one speaks.… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“When she had thus for a while struck the flint on her heart without getting a spark, incapable, moreover, of understanding what… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
One mustn't ask apple trees for oranges, France for sun, women for love, life for happiness. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
I spent the morning putting in a comma and the afternoon removing it. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Love, she thought, must come suddenly, with great outbursts and lightnings,--a hurricane of the skies, which falls upon life, revolutionises it, roots… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“An overwhelming curiosity makes me ask myself what their lives might be like. I want to know what they do, where they're… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“Everything measurable passes, everything that can be counted has an end. Only three things are infinite: the sky in its stars, the… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“The smooth folds of her dress concealed a tumultuous heart, and her modest lips told nothing of her torment. She was in… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy. I want to gorge you with all… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“Her great desire, in fact, was to have something more solid, more tangible than love to rely upon.” — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“But the more Emma recognised her love, the more she crushed it down, that it might not be evident, that she might… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“So far as Emma was concerned she did not ask herself whether she was in love. Love, she thought, was something that… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“But vilifying those we love always alienates us from them to a certain extent. Idols should not be touched: the gilding comes… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Love, to her, was something hat comes suddenly, like a blinding flash of lightening - a heaven-sent storm hurled into life, uprooting… — 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
