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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

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

Myself Repeat Triumph Ultimate
Blow the candle out, I don’t need to see what my thoughts look like.
EMILE ZOLA

Blow Myself Need See Thinking
Truth is on the march, and nothing will stop it.
EMILE ZOLA

Stop Truth Way
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
An entire lifetime would not be long enough for you to exhaust the glance of the young harvest-girl.
EMILE ZOLA

Enough Life Time Woman Young
A god of kindness would be charitable to all. Your god of wrath and punishment is but a monstrous phantasy.
EMILE ZOLA

Charitable God Kindness Monster Punishment Yourself
When a peasant begins to feel the need for instruction, he usually becomes fiercely calculating.
EMILE ZOLA

Beginning Calculation Fierce Peasant
Through the centuries, the history of peoples is but a lesson in mutual tolerance.
EMILE ZOLA

History Lesson People Time Tolerance
If I cannot overwhelm with my quality, I will overwhelm with my quantity.
EMILE ZOLA

Impress Myself Quality Quantity
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
How evil life must be if it were indeed necessary that such imploring cries, such cries of physical and moral wretchedness, should ever and ever ascend to heaven!
EMILE ZOLA

Ascend Cry Evil Heaven Life Necessary Physical
Everything is only a dream.
EMILE ZOLA

Dreams One Liner
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

Death Food Load Myself Quantity
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
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
It all seemed a hollow sham now – that strict code, that conscientious virtue that condemned her to the sterile joys of pious women! No, no, she’d had enough of that; she wanted to live!
EMILE ZOLA

Enough Happiness Hollow Joy Live Strict Virtue Woman

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.

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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.

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Popular Authors

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