One mustn’t ask apple trees for oranges, France for sun, women for love, life for happiness.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT
Related Topics
Circumference
For him the universe did not extend beyond the circumference of her petticoat.
More Gustave Flaubert Quotes
-
One mustn’t ask apple trees for oranges, France for sun, women for love, life for happiness.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
One’s duty is to feel what is great, cherish the beautiful, and to not accept the conventions of society with the ignominy that it imposes upon us.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
You don’t know what it is to stay a whole day with your head in your hands trying to squeeze your unfortunate brain so as to find a word.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
The deplorable mania of doubt exhausts me. I doubt about everything, even my doubts.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
Life is so horrible that one can only bear it by avoiding it. And that can be done by living in the world of art.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
After a person dies, there is always something like a feeling of stupefaction, so difficult is it to comprehend this unexpected advent of nothingness and to resign oneself to believing it.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
To be simple is no small matter.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
The public wants work which flatters its illusions.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
One’s existence should be in two parts: one should live like a bourgeois and think like a demigod.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
Through small apertures we glimpse abysses whose sombre depths turn us faint. And yet over the whole there hovers an extraordinary tenderness.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
I have dreamed much and have done very little.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
I believe that if one always looked at the skies, one would end up with wings.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
You must write for yourself, above all. That is your only hope of creating something beautiful.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
I spent the morning putting in a comma and the afternoon removing it.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT -
Everything one invents is true, you may be perfectly sure of that. Poetry is as precise as geometry.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT