All Gustave Flaubert Quotes
- I am irritated by my own writing. I am like a violinist whose ear is true, but whose fingers refuse to reproduce precisely the sound… Ear
- Maybe happiness too is a metaphor invented on a day of boredom Boredom
- What baffled him was that there should be all this fuss about something so simple as love. All
- Of all the icy blasts that blow on love, a request for money is the most chilling. All
- She was as sated with him as he was tired of her. Emma had rediscovered in adultery all the banality of marriage. Adultery
- She remembered the heroines of novels she had read, and the lyrical legion of those adulterous women began to sing in her memory with sisterly… Adulterous
- You must write for yourself, above all. That is your only hope of creating something beautiful. All
- Sentences must stir in a book like leaves in a forest, each distinct from each despite their resemblance. Book
- She did not believe that things could remain the same in different places, and since the portion of her life that lay behind her had… Bad
- There was an air of indifference about them, a calm produced by the gratification of every passion; and through their manners were suave, one could… Air
- As for the piano, the faster her fingers flew over it, the more he marveled. She struck the keys with aplomb and ran from one… Aplomb
- He was bored now when Emma suddenly began to sob on his breast; and his heart, like the people who can only stand a certain… Amount
- Let us not kid ourselves; let us remember that literature is of no use whatever, except in the very special case of somebody's wishing to… All
- Doesn't it seem to you," asked Madame Bovary, "that the mind moves more freely in the presence of that boundless expanse, that the sight of… Asked
- Thought is the greatest of pleasures —pleasure itself is only imagination—have you ever enjoyed anything more than your dreams? Dream
- My life which I dream will be so beautiful, so poetic, so vast, so filled with love will turn out to be like everybody else's… Beautiful
- He loved a book because it was a book; he loved its odor, its form, its title. What he loved in a manuscript was its… Bizarre
- She would have liked not to be alive, or to be always asleep. Alive
- Everything, even herself, was now unbearable to her. She wished that, taking wing like a bird, she could fly somewhere, far away to regions of… Bird
- I spent the morning putting in a comma and the afternoon removing it. Afternoon