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Nothing develops intelligence like travel.

Emile Zola

She was cold by nature, self-love predominating over passion; rather than being virtuous, she preferred to have her pleasures all to herself.
EMILE ZOLA

Cold Happiness Herself Nature Passion Virtuous
Over all crowds there seems to float a vague distress, an atmosphere of pervasive melancholy, as if any large gathering of people creates an aura of terror and pity.
EMILE ZOLA

Creation Distress People Sadness
Blow the candle out, I don’t need to see what my thoughts look like.
EMILE ZOLA

Blow Myself Need See Thinking
Let us eat, drink and satisfy our coarse appetites, but let us keep our souls sacred and apart.
EMILE ZOLA

Drink Eat Ourselves Sacred Soul
What will be the death of me are buillabaisses, food spiced with pimiento, shellfish, and a load of exquisite rubbish which I eat in disproportionate quantities.
EMILE ZOLA

Death Food Load Myself Quantity
An entire lifetime would not be long enough for you to exhaust the glance of the young harvest-girl.
EMILE ZOLA

Enough Life Time Woman Young
If you shut up truth, and bury it underground, it will but grow.
EMILE ZOLA

Growth Shut Truth Yourself
They dared not peer down into their own natures, down into the feverish confusion that filled their minds with a kind of dense, acrid mist.
EMILE ZOLA

Confusion Dare Kind Mindset Nature
The word realist means nothing to me, because I would subordinate reality to temperament. Give me what is true and I applaud; but give me what is individual and alive and I applaud even more.
EMILE ZOLA

Myself Praise Reality Temperature True Word
A ruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to lie rotting on the ground.
EMILE ZOLA

Fruit Hands Lying Man Ruin
When sometimes, behind his back, they called him a tyrant, he merely smiled and uttered this profound observation: If some day I turn liberal, they will say I have let them down.
EMILE ZOLA

Liberal Myself Observation Smile Time
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
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
Civilization will not attain to its perfection until the last stone from the last church falls on the last priest.
EMILE ZOLA

Civilization Fall Myself Perfection Priest Stone
Classical education has deformed everything, and has imposed upon us as geniuses men of correct, facile talent, who follow the beaten track.
EMILE ZOLA

Class Correct Education Genius Talent Track
Lovers are made by a kiss.
EMILE ZOLA

Kiss Lover One Liner

Nothing develops intelligence like travel.

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Nothing develops intelligence like travel.

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