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There are two men inside the artist, the poet and the craftsman. One is born a poet. One becomes a craftsman.

Emile Zola

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
When sometimes, behind his back, they called him a tyrant, he merely smiled and uttered this profound observation: If some day I turn liberal, they will say I have let them down.
EMILE ZOLA

Liberal Myself Observation Smile Time
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
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

Creation Distress People Sadness
When a peasant begins to feel the need for instruction, he usually becomes fiercely calculating.
EMILE ZOLA

Beginning Calculation Fierce Peasant
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

Delight Garden Growth Leaving Myself Passion
In my view you cannot claim to have seen something until you have photographed it.
EMILE ZOLA

Photography View Yourself
If people can just love each other a little bit, they can be so happy.
EMILE ZOLA

Each Other Happiness Love People
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
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
She was cold by nature, self-love predominating over passion; rather than being virtuous, she preferred to have her pleasures all to herself.
EMILE ZOLA

Cold Happiness Herself Nature Passion Virtuous
I would rather die of passion than of boredom.
EMILE ZOLA

Boredom Death Myself Passion
Violence has never prospered, you can’t remake the world in a day. Anyone who promises to change everything for you all at once is either a fool or a rogue!
EMILE ZOLA

Change Fools Promise Violence World
Truth is on the march, and nothing will stop it.
EMILE ZOLA

Stop Truth Way
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
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
Inability, human incapacity, is the only boundary to an art.
EMILE ZOLA

Art Boundary Human Incapacity Limitation
I do not despair in the least of ultimate triumph. I repeat it with intense conviction.
EMILE ZOLA

Myself Repeat Triumph Ultimate
When you have a sorrow that is too great it leaves no room for any other.
EMILE ZOLA

Greatness Leaving Sorrow
Sin ought to be something exquisite, my dear boy.
EMILE ZOLA

Boy Exquisite Myself Sin
Art is a corner of creation seen through a temperament.
EMILE ZOLA

Art Corner Creation Temperature
If you shut up truth, and bury it underground, it will but grow.
EMILE ZOLA

Growth Shut Truth Yourself
Lovers are made by a kiss.
EMILE ZOLA

Kiss Lover One Liner
If you shut up truth and bury it under the ground, it will but grow, and gather to itself such explosive power that the day it bursts through it will blow up everything in its way.
EMILE ZOLA

Burst Ground Power Shut Truth Yourself
One forges one’s style on the terrible anvil of daily deadlines.
EMILE ZOLA

Dead Fake Forge Line Style
They talked so, with secret hearts, without needing words, talking of other things. They could have suddenly continued their confessions aloud, without ceasing to understand each other.
EMILE ZOLA

Each Other Heart Need Secret Talk Understand Word. Confession
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

There are two men inside the artist, the poet and the craftsman. One is born a poet. One becomes a craftsman.

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There are two men inside the artist, the poet and the craftsman. One is born a poet. One becomes a craftsman.

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