black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

…A strange art – music – the most poetic and precise of all the arts, vague as a dream and precise as algebra.

Guy de Maupassant

Anguish of suspense made men even desire the arrival of enemies.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Anguish Desire Enemy Man
Words dazzle and deceive because they are mimed by the face. But black words on a white page are the soul laid bare.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Black Face Feeling Poet Soul Writing
We breathe love as we breathe air; we hold it in ourselves as we hold our thoughts. Nothing more exists for us.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Anand Thakur
The great artists are those who impose their personal vision upon humanity.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Artist Greatness Humanity Personal Vision
Travel, like dreams, is a door that opens from the real world into a world that is yet to be discovered.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Discover Dreams Reality Travel
The English have only three sauces – a white one, a brown one and a yellow one, and none of them have any flavor whatever.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

English Flavor Food
The simplest of women are wonderful liars who can extricate themselves from the most difficult dilemmas with a skill bordering on genius.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Difficult Genius Simplicity Woman Wonderful
I said, ‘If other beings besides us exist on Earth, why didn’t we meet them a long time ago?
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Earth Existence Time
Legitimized love always despises its easygoing brother.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Brother Love
We are accustomed to use our eyes only with the memory of what other people before us have thought about the object we are looking at.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Eyes Memories Object Ourselves People
Conversation. What is it? A Mystery! It’s the art of never seeming bored, of touching everything with interest, of pleasing with trifles, of being fascinating with nothing at all.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Art Boredom Conversation Fascinate Interest
I love the night passionately. I love it with all my senses: I love to see it, I love to breathe it in, I love to open my ears to its silence, I love my whole body to be caressed by its blackness.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Body Breathe Love Myself Night Passionate Patience
One sometimes weeps over one’s illusions with as much bitterness as over a death.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Death Illusion Time
…A strange art – music – the most poetic and precise of all the arts, vague as a dream and precise as algebra.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Algebra Art Dreams Music Poet Strange
Love is always love, come whence it may. A heart that beats at your approach, an eye that weeps when you go away are things so rare, so sweet, so precious that they must never be despised.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Approach Artist Eyes Greatness Heart Love Precious Rare
The bed comprehends our whole life, for we were born in it, we live in it, and we shall die in it
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Bed Born Death Life

…A strange art – music – the most poetic and precise of all the arts, vague as a dream and precise as algebra.

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…A strange art – music – the most poetic and precise of all the arts, vague as a dream and precise as algebra.

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