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It all seemed a hollow sham now – that strict code, that conscientious virtue that condemned her to the sterile joys of pious women! No, no, she’d had enough of that; she wanted to live!

Emile Zola

My fiery protest is simply the cry of my very soul.
EMILE ZOLA

Cry Fire Myself Protest Soul
A ruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to lie rotting on the ground.
EMILE ZOLA

Fruit Hands Lying Man Ruin
How evil life must be if it were indeed necessary that such imploring cries, such cries of physical and moral wretchedness, should ever and ever ascend to heaven!
EMILE ZOLA

Ascend Cry Evil Heaven Life Necessary Physical
Blow the candle out, I don’t need to see what my thoughts look like.
EMILE ZOLA

Blow Myself Need See Thinking
One forges one’s style on the terrible anvil of daily deadlines.
EMILE ZOLA

Dead Fake Forge Line Style
There are two men inside the artist, the poet and the craftsman. One is born a poet. One becomes a craftsman.
EMILE ZOLA

Artist Man Nurtue Poet Talent
The only basis for living is believing in life, loving it, and applying the whole force of one’s intellect to know it better.
EMILE ZOLA

Believe Better Force Intellect Live Love
Lovers are made by a kiss.
EMILE ZOLA

Kiss Lover One Liner
The fate of animals is of greater importance to me than the fear of appearing ridiculous; it is indissolubly connected with the fate of men.
EMILE ZOLA

Animal Appearance Connection Fate Fear Greatness Important Man
Respectable people, What bastards!
EMILE ZOLA

People Respect
She might have liked to try to strangle him with those slender fingers of hers, but she wanted to make a job of it and this great patience with which she waited for her claws to grow was in itself a form of enjoyment.
EMILE ZOLA

Death Enjoyment Fingers Job Strangle
Sin ought to be something exquisite, my dear boy.
EMILE ZOLA

Boy Exquisite Myself Sin
When truth is buried, it grows. It chokes. It gathers such an explosive force that on the day it bursts out, it blows up everything with it.
EMILE ZOLA

Blow Choke Force Truth
Did not one spend the first half of one’s days in dreams of happiness and the second half in regrets and terrors?
EMILE ZOLA

Dreams Fear Happiness Oneself Regret
I have but one passion: to enlighten those who have been kept in the dark, in the name of humanity which has suffered so much and is entitled to happiness. My fiery protest is simply the cry of my very soul.
EMILE ZOLA

Cry Darkness Enlightenment Humanity Myself Passion Soul Suffering
In love as in speculation there is much filth; in love also, people think only of their own gratification; yet without love there would be no life, and the world would come to an end.
EMILE ZOLA

End Gratitude Life Love People Thinking World

It all seemed a hollow sham now – that strict code, that conscientious virtue that condemned her to the sterile joys of pious women! No, no, she’d had enough of that; she wanted to live!

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It all seemed a hollow sham now – that strict code, that conscientious virtue that condemned her to the sterile joys of pious women! No, no, she’d had enough of that; she wanted to live!

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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