“Amongst those who go to sea there are the navigators who discover new worlds, adding continents to the earth and stars to… — 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
“It seems to me, alas, that if you can so thoroughly dissect your children who are still to be born, you don’t… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
It is splendid to be a great writer, to put men into the frying pan of your words and make them pop… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
I’m dazzled by your facility. In ten days you’ll have written six stories! I don’t understand it… I’m like one of those… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
I am irritated by my own writing. I am like a violinist whose ear is true, but whose fingers refuse to reproduce… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“It is a delicious thing to write, whether well or badly - to be no longer yourself but to move in an… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
There comes a point at which you stop writing and think all the more — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“To return to antiquity [in literature]: that has been done. To return to the Middle Ages: that too has been done. Remains… — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
A good sentence in prose should be like a good line in poetry, unchangeable, as rhythmic, as sonorous. — Gustave Flaubert Copy Share Image
“An author in his book must be like God in the universe, present everywhere and visible nowhere.” — 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
