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Don’t cudgel your brains over my little problems.

Sidonie Gabrielle Colette

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As for an authentic villain, the real thing, the absolute, the artist, one rarely meets him even once in a lifetime. The ordinary bad hat is always in part a decent fellow.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Artist Authentic Himself Life Ordinary Time Villain
On this narrow planet, we have only the choice between two unknown worlds. One of them tempts us – ah! what a dream, to live in that! – the other stifles us at the first breath.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Breathe Choice Planet Temptation
A happy childhood is poor preparation for human contacts.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Childhood Contact Happiness Human Poor Preparation
Time spent with a cat is never wasted.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Animal Cat One Liner Pet Time Wasted
If he’s getting married, he’s not longer interesting.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Himself Interesting Marriage
The lovesick, the betrayed, and the jealous all smell alike.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Betrayal Heart Broken Jealous
By means of an image we are often able to hold on to our lost belongings. But it is the desperateness of losing which picks the flowers of memory, binds the bouquet.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Desperate Flower Image Lose Memories Ourselves
Never touch a butterfly’s wing with your finger.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Fingers Touch Yourself
I did not look for her, because I was afraid of dispelling the mystery we attach to people whom we know only casually.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Attachment Casually Myself Mystery People Search
A few days later, I found my mother beneath the tree, motionless with excitement, her head turned toward the heavens in which she would allow human religions no place.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Allow Excitement Finding Human Place Religion Tree
I went to collect the few personal belongings which. I held to be invaluable: my cat, my resolve to travel, and my solitude.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Collection Myself Personal Solitude Travel Value
Sit down and put down everything that comes into your head and then you’re a writer. But an author is one who can judge his own stuff’s worth, without pity, and destroy most of it.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Author Criticism Destroy Head Himself Judgement Poet Writing
I love my past, I love my present. I am not ashamed of what I have had, and I am not sad because I no longer have it.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Life Lost Love Myself Past Present Sadness Shame Time
January, month of empty pockets! let us endure this evil month, anxious as a theatrical producer’s forehead.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Anxiety Endurance New Year Ourselves Production Theatre
There are connoisseurs of blue just as there are connoisseurs of wine.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Blue People Wine
At the top of the iron staircase leading to the stage, the good, dry, dusty warmth wraps me round like a comfortable dirty cloak.
SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLETTE

Cloak Comfortable Dirty Leadership Warm

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