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One sometimes weeps over one’s illusions with as much bitterness as over a death.

Guy de Maupassant

I love the night passionately. I love it with all my senses: I love to see it, I love to breathe it in, I love to open my ears to its silence, I love my whole body to be caressed by its blackness.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Body Breathe Love Myself Night Passionate Patience
The kiss itself is immortal. It travels from lip to lip, century to century, from age to age. Men and women garner these kisses, offer them to others and then die in turn.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Age Immortal Kiss Lips Man Offering Travel
I entered literary life as a meteor, and I shall leave it like a thunderbolt.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Leaving Literature Myself
History, that excitable and unreliable old lady.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Excitement History Lady Old
We live always under the weight of the old and odious customs… of our barbarous ancestors.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Ancestor Custom Live Ourselves Weight
There is only one good thing in life, and that is love. And how you misunderstand it! how you spoil it! You treat it as something solemn like a sacrament, or something to be bought, like a dress.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Goodness Life Love Misunderstand Treat Yourself
It is the lives we encounter that make life worth living.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Inspirational Life Live Worth
The English have only three sauces – a white one, a brown one and a yellow one, and none of them have any flavor whatever.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

English Flavor Food
Words dazzle and deceive because they are mimed by the face. But black words on a white page are the soul laid bare.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Black Face Feeling Poet Soul Writing
You’ll find that my coquetry is quite impartial, which allows me to keep my friends.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Death Fact Live
Conversation. What is it? A Mystery! It’s the art of never seeming bored, of touching everything with interest, of pleasing with trifles, of being fascinating with nothing at all.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Art Boredom Conversation Fascinate Interest
…A strange art – music – the most poetic and precise of all the arts, vague as a dream and precise as algebra.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Algebra Art Dreams Music Poet Strange
Love always has its price, come whence it may.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Love Price Time
In the East men know panic, but they do not know what fright is.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Deep Fear Man Panic
There is only one good thing in life, and that is love.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Goodness Life Love
One sometimes weeps over one’s illusions with as much bitterness as over a death.
GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Death Illusion Time

One sometimes weeps over one’s illusions with as much bitterness as over a death.

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One sometimes weeps over one’s illusions with as much bitterness as over a death.

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