Gustave Flaubert Quotes About Heart
-
The hearts of women are like those little pieces of furniture with secret hiding - places, full of drawers fitted into each other; you go a lot of trouble, break your nails, and in the bottom find some withered flower, a few grains of dust - or emptiness!
→ -
After the pain of this disappointment her heart once more stood empty, and the succession of identical days began again.
→ -
Each dream finds at last its form; there is a drink for every thirst, and love for every heart. And there is no better way to spend your life than in the unceasing preoccupation of an idea--of an ideal.
→ -
Years passed; and he endured the idleness of his intelligence and the inertia of his heart.
→ -
You need a high degree of corruption or a very big heart to love absolutely everything
→ -
Only three things are infinite. The sky in its stars, the sea in its drops of water, and the heart in its tears.
→ -
Are the days of winter sunshine just as sad for you, too? When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins.
→ -
Love, she thought, must come suddenly, with great outbursts and lightnings,--a hurricane of the skies, which falls upon life, revolutionises it, roots up the will like a leaf, and sweeps the whole heart into the abyss.
→ -
… Her heart remained empty once more, and the procession of days all alike began again. So they were going to follow one another, like this, in line, always identical, innumerable, bringing nothing!
→ -
For a long time now my heart has had its shutters closed, its steps deserted, formerly a tumultuous hotel, but now empty and echoing like a great empty tomb.
→ -
The heart, like the stomach, wants a varied diet.
→ -
You forget everything. The hours slip by. You travel in your chair through centuries you seem seem to see before you, your thoughts are caught up in the story, dallying with the details or following the course of the plot, you enter into characters, so that it seems as if it were your own heart beating beneath their costumes.
→ -
The style, which is something I take to heart, is getting on my nerves horribly. It frustrates and torments me. I have days when Iam sick about it and nights when it gives me a fever. The more I go at it the more I find myself incapable of conveying the Idea.
→ -
How we keep these dead souls in our hearts. Each one of us carries within himself his necropolis.
→ -
Boredom, that silent spider, was spinning its web in the darkness in every corner of her heart.
→ -
As you get older, the heart shed its leaves like a tree. You cannot hold out against certain winds. Each day tears away a few more leaves; and then there are the storms that break off several branches at one go. And while nature’s greenery grows back again in the spring, that of the heart never grows back.
→ -
I like prostitution. My heart has never failed to pound at the sight of one of those provocatively dressed women walking in the rain under the gaslamps, just as the sight of monks in their robes and girdles touches some ascetic, hidden corner of my soul.
→ -
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 of music, became drowsy through indifference to the vibrations of a love whose subtleties he could no longer distinguish.
→
Related Authors
-
Stendhal Writer -
Jose Saramago Writer -
James Joyce Novelist -
Arthur Rimbaud Poet -
Alphonse Daudet Novelist -
Guy de Maupassant Writer -
Franz Kafka Writer -
Charles Dickens Writer -
Jean-Paul Sartre Philosopher -
Emile Zola Writer -
Victor Hugo Poet -
Vladimir Nabokov Novelist -
Louise Colet Poet -
Fyodor Dostoevsky Novelist -
Marcel Proust Novelist -
Charles Baudelaire Poet -
Leo Tolstoy Writer -
Honore de Balzac Novelist -
Jose Ortega y Gasset Philosopher -
George Sand Novelist