I'm absolutely removed from the world at such times...The hours go by without my knowing it. Sitting there I'm wandering in countries… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“Without moving, you walk through lands you imagine you can see, and your thoughts, weaving in and out of the story, delight… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“Non leggete, come fanno i bambini, per divertirvi, o, come fanno gli ambiziosi per istruirvi. No, leggete per vivere.” — 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
“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
“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
“Motionless we traverse countries we fancy we see, and your thought, blending with the fiction, playing with the details, follows the outline… — 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
Stupidity consists in wanting to reach conclusions. We are a thread, and we want to know the whole cloth. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“Haven't you ever happened to come across in a book some vague notion that you've had, some obscure idea that returns from… — 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
