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The past was but the cemetery of our illusions: one simply stubbed one’s toes on the gravestones.

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
The vague torment of ambition.
EMILE ZOLA

Ambition One Liner
Art is a corner of creation seen through a temperament.
EMILE ZOLA

Art Corner Creation Temperature
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
Every wave is a water sprite who swims in the current, each current is a path which snakes towards my palace, and my palace is fluidly built at the bottom of the lake, in the triangle of earth, fire and water.
EMILE ZOLA

Earth Fire Nature Palace Sprite Water Wave
The past was but the cemetery of our illusions: one simply stubbed one’s toes on the gravestones.
EMILE ZOLA

Grave Illusion Oneself Past
If people can just love each other a little bit, they can be so happy.
EMILE ZOLA

Each Other Happiness Love People
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
I am an artist. I am here to live out loud.
EMILE ZOLA

Artist Live Loud Myself
If you ask me what I came into this life to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud.
EMILE ZOLA

Existence Life Live Myself Purpose
The camembert with its venison scent defeats the Marolles and Limbourg dull smells; It spreads its exhalation, smothering the other scents under its surprising breath abundance.
EMILE ZOLA

Abundance Breathe Defeat Scent Surprise
The thought is a deed. Of all deeds she fertilizes the world most.
EMILE ZOLA

Fertilizer Thinking World
When a peasant begins to feel the need for instruction, he usually becomes fiercely calculating.
EMILE ZOLA

Beginning Calculation Fierce Peasant
I am little concerned with beauty or perfection. I don’t care for the great centuries. All I care about is life, struggle, intensity.
EMILE ZOLA

Beautiful Intensity Myself Perfection Struggle
If I cannot overwhelm with my quality, I will overwhelm with my quantity.
EMILE ZOLA

Impress Myself Quality Quantity
In Paris, everything’s for sale: wise virgins, foolish virgins, truth and lies, tears and smiles.
EMILE ZOLA

Fools Lying Sale Tears Virgin

The past was but the cemetery of our illusions: one simply stubbed one’s toes on the gravestones.

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The past was but the cemetery of our illusions: one simply stubbed one’s toes on the gravestones.

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Popular Authors

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