I invite all brats to throw their cookies at the baker's head if they're not sweet, winos to chuck their wine if… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Doesn't it seem to you," asked Madame Bovary, "that the mind moves more freely in the presence of that boundless expanse, that… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Style is as much under the words as in the words. It is as much the soul as it is the flesh… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Everyone, either from modesty or egotism, hides away the best and most delicate of his soul’s possessions; to gain the esteem of… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
Mediocrity cherishes rules; as for me, I hate them; I feel for them and for every restriction, corporation, caste, hierarchy, level, herd,… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
How we keep these dead souls in our hearts. Each one of us carries within himself his necropolis. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
I had, as I told you, a great passion while still almost a child. When it was over, I divided myself in… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
[T]he truth is that fullness of soul can sometimes overflow in utter vapidity of language, for none of us can ever express… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
There are two infinities that confuse me: the one in my soul devours me; the one around me will crush me — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
The most important thing in the world is to hold your soul aloft. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
I like prostitution. My heart has never failed to pound at the sight of one of those provocatively dressed women walking in… — 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
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