black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Reality does not conform to the ideal, but confirms it.

Gustave Flaubert

Stupidity is something unshakable; nothing attacks it without breaking itself against it; it is of the nature of granite, hard and resistant.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Attack Break Hard Nature Resistance Shake Stupidity
We must laugh and cry, enjoy and suffer, in a word, vibrate to our full capacity … I think that’s what being really human means.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Cry Enjoyment Human Laughter Myself Suffering Thinking
You need a high degree of corruption or a very big heart to love absolutely everything.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Corruption Heart Love Need Yourself
It’s a delicious thing to write. To be no longer yourself but to move in an entire universe of your own creating.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Creation Delicious Universe Writing Yourself
What a heavy oar the pen is, and what a strong current ideas are to row in!
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Current heavy Ideas Strong
The most glorious moments in your life are not the so-called days of success, but rather those days when out of dejection and despair you feel rise in you a challenge to life, and the promise of future accomplishments.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Challenge Day Feeling Glory Life Moments Promise Rise Success
Through small apertures we glimpse abysses whose sombre depths turn us faint. And yet over the whole there hovers an extraordinary tenderness.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Ordinary Small Tender
To be simple is no small matter.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Minimalism One Liner Simplicity
Life must be a constant education; one must learn everything, from speaking to dying.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Death Education Learning Life Talk
Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Life Order Original Regular Violence Work
Reality does not conform to the ideal, but confirms it.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Confirm Ideal Reality
One never tires of what is well written, style is life! It is the very blood of thought!
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Blood Life Style Thinking Writing
Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Hope Love Perfume Plant Ruin Time
Writing history is like drinking an ocean and pissing a cupful.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Drinking History Writing
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

Believe Death Difficult Feeling Oneself Person
What an awful thing life is, isn’t it? It’s like soup with lots of hairs floating on the surface. You have to eat it nevertheless.
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT

Eat Life Surface Yourself

Reality does not conform to the ideal, but confirms it.

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Reality does not conform to the ideal, but confirms it.

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