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Blow the candle out, I don’t need to see what my thoughts look like.

Emile Zola

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

Grave Illusion Oneself Past
I do not despair in the least of ultimate triumph. I repeat it with intense conviction.
EMILE ZOLA

Myself Repeat Triumph Ultimate
Respectable people, What bastards!
EMILE ZOLA

People Respect
Has science ever retreated? No! It is Catholicism which has always retreated before her, and will always be forced to retreat.
EMILE ZOLA

Religion Retreat Science
Everything is only a dream.
EMILE ZOLA

Dreams One Liner
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
I have but one passion: to enlighten those who have been kept in the dark, in the name of humanity which has suffered so much and is entitled to happiness. My fiery protest is simply the cry of my very soul.
EMILE ZOLA

Cry Darkness Enlightenment Humanity Myself Passion Soul Suffering
Paris flared – Paris, which the divine sun had sown with light, and where in glory waved the great future harvest of Truth and of Justice.
EMILE ZOLA

Divine Future Greatness Justice Light Sun Truth
Art for me…is a negation of society, an affirmation of the individual, outside of all the rules and all the demands of society.
EMILE ZOLA

Affirmation Art Demand Negotiation Rule Society
When lovers kiss on the cheeks, it is because they are searching, feeling for one another’s lips. Lovers are made by a kiss.
EMILE ZOLA

Cheek Kiss Lover Search
If you shut up truth, and bury it underground, it will but grow.
EMILE ZOLA

Growth Shut Truth Yourself
Governments are suspicious of literature because it is a force that eludes them.
EMILE ZOLA

Force Government Literature
Truth is on the march, and nothing will stop it.
EMILE ZOLA

Stop Truth Way
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
The day is not far off when one ordinary carrot may be pregnant with revolution.
EMILE ZOLA

Ordinary Pregnant Revolution
Sin ought to be something exquisite, my dear boy.
EMILE ZOLA

Boy Exquisite Myself Sin

Blow the candle out, I don’t need to see what my thoughts look like.

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Blow the candle out, I don’t need to see what my thoughts look like.

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