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A ruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to lie rotting on the ground.

Emile Zola

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
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
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
Respectable people, What bastards!
EMILE ZOLA

People Respect
It is not necessary that one should humble oneself to deserve assistance, it is sufficient that one should suffer.
EMILE ZOLA

Assistance Deserve Humble Necessary Sufficiant
Nothing develops intelligence like travel.
EMILE ZOLA

Development Intelligence Travel
I am an artist. I am here to live out loud.
EMILE ZOLA

Artist Live Loud Myself
My fiery protest is simply the cry of my very soul.
EMILE ZOLA

Cry Fire Myself Protest Soul
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
When you have a sorrow that is too great it leaves no room for any other.
EMILE ZOLA

Greatness Leaving Sorrow
Yes! live life with every fibre of one’s being, surrender oneself to it, with no thoughts of rebellion, without deluding oneself that one can improve it and render it painless.
EMILE ZOLA

Fibre Improvement Life Pain Rebel Surrender
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
Oh, the fools, like a lot of good little schoolboys, scared to death of anything they’ve been taught is wrong!
EMILE ZOLA

Fear Fools School Teaching Wrong
If you shut up truth and bury it under the ground, it will but grow, and gather to itself such explosive power that the day it bursts through it will blow up everything in its way.
EMILE ZOLA

Burst Ground Power Shut Truth Yourself
If something’s just, I’ll let myself be hacked to bits for it.
EMILE ZOLA

Allow Hack Myself Part Willing

A ruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to lie rotting on the ground.

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A ruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to lie rotting on the ground.

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