It is not necessary that one should humble oneself to deserve assistance, it is sufficient that one should suffer.
EMILE ZOLAHas science ever retreated? No! It is Catholicism which has always retreated before her, and will always be forced to retreat.
More Emile Zola Quotes
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I would rather die of passion than of boredom.
EMILE ZOLA -
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 -
Man’s highest duty is to protect animals from cruelty.
EMILE ZOLA -
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 -
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 -
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 -
Why then should money be blamed for all the dirt and crimes it causes? For is love less filthy – love which creates life?
EMILE ZOLA -
I am spending delightful afternoons in my garden, watching everything living around me. As I grow older, I feel everything departing, and I love everything with more passion.
EMILE ZOLA -
If people can just love each other a little bit, they can be so happy.
EMILE ZOLA -
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 -
The road to Lourdes is littered with crutches, but not one wooden leg.
EMILE ZOLA -
In Paris, everything’s for sale: wise virgins, foolish virgins, truth and lies, tears and smiles.
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I am an artist. I am here to live out loud.
EMILE ZOLA -
The vague torment of ambition.
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One forges one’s style on the terrible anvil of daily deadlines.
EMILE ZOLA