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Perfection is such a nuisance that I often regret having cured myself of using tobacco.

Emile Zola

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
In Paris, everything’s for sale: wise virgins, foolish virgins, truth and lies, tears and smiles.
EMILE ZOLA

Fools Lying Sale Tears Virgin
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
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
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

Myself Praise Reality Temperature True Word
A ruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to lie rotting on the ground.
EMILE ZOLA

Fruit Hands Lying Man Ruin
Truth is on the march, and nothing will stop it.
EMILE ZOLA

Stop Truth Way
I would rather die of passion than of boredom.
EMILE ZOLA

Boredom Death Myself Passion
The road to Lourdes is littered with crutches, but not one wooden leg.
EMILE ZOLA

Journey Road 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
If something’s just, I’ll let myself be hacked to bits for it.
EMILE ZOLA

Allow Hack Myself Part Willing
Every wave is a water sprite who swims in the current, each current is a path which snakes towards my palace, and my palace is fluidly built at the bottom of the lake, in the triangle of earth, fire and water.
EMILE ZOLA

Earth Fire Nature Palace Sprite Water Wave
There are two men inside the artist, the poet and the craftsman. One is born a poet. One becomes a craftsman.
EMILE ZOLA

Artist Man Nurtue Poet Talent
If people can just love each other a little bit, they can be so happy.
EMILE ZOLA

Each Other Happiness Love People
Since the same human mire remains beneath, does not all civilization reduce itself to the superiority of smelling nice and living well?
EMILE ZOLA

Beneath Civilization Human Live Smell
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

Perfection is such a nuisance that I often regret having cured myself of using tobacco.

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Perfection is such a nuisance that I often regret having cured myself of using tobacco.

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