If people can just love each other a little bit, they can be so happy.
EMILE ZOLAThe 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.
More Emile Zola Quotes
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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 -
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 -
A new dynasty is never founded without a struggle. Blood makes good manure.
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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.
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These young people naturally grow up with ideas different from ours, for they are born for times when we shall no longer be here
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Why then should money be blamed for all the dirt and crimes it causes? For is love less filthy – love which creates life?
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It is not necessary that one should humble oneself to deserve assistance, it is sufficient that one should suffer.
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Art is a corner of creation seen through a temperament.
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Oh, the fools, like a lot of good little schoolboys, scared to death of anything they’ve been taught is wrong!
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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.
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In Paris, everything’s for sale: wise virgins, foolish virgins, truth and lies, tears and smiles.
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When you have a sorrow that is too great it leaves no room for any other.
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The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work.
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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.
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My fiery protest is simply the cry of my very soul.
EMILE ZOLA