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A novel is a mirror which passes over a highway. Sometimes it reflects to your eyes the blue of the skies, at others the churned-up mud of the road.

Stendhal

Prudery is a kind of avarice, the worst of all.
STENDHAL

Kind Vice Worst
If you don’t love me, it does not matter, anyway I can love for both of us.
STENDHAL

Love Matter Myself Ourselves
The first qualification for a historian is to have no ability to invent.
STENDHAL

Ability History Invention Qualification
God’s only excuse is that he does not exist.
STENDHAL

Excuse Existence God Himself
A novel is like a bow, and the violin that produces the sound is the reader’s soul.
STENDHAL

Novel Production Reading Soul Sound Violin
Spring appears and we are once more children.
STENDHAL

Appearance Children Ourselves Spring
A very small degree of hope is sufficient to cause the birth of love.
STENDHAL

Born Degree Hope Love Small
It is from cowardice and not from want of enlightenment that we do not read in our own hearts.
STENDHAL

Coward Enlightenment Heart Ourselves Reading
All religions are founded on the fear of the many and the cleverness of the few.
STENDHAL

Clever Fear Foundation Religion Smart
Our true passions are selfish.
STENDHAL

One Liner Ourselves Passion Selfish
Logic is neither an art nor a science but a dodge.
STENDHAL

Art Escape Logic Science
To seem sorrowful is not in good taste: You’re supposed to seem bored.
STENDHAL

Bored Goodness Sorrow Taste
There is no such thing as “natural law”: this expression is nothing but old nonsense… Prior to laws, what is natural is only the strength of the lion, or the need of the creature suffering from hunger or cold, in short, need.
STENDHAL

Cold Hungry Law Natural Need Strength Suffering
Nothing is so hideous as an obsolete fashion.
STENDHAL

Fashion Hide
Wounded pride can take a rich young man far who is surrounded by flatterers since birth.
STENDHAL

Birth Man Pride Rich Surround Wound Young
The sight of anything extremely beautiful, in nature or in art, brings back the memory of what one loves, with the speed of lightning.
STENDHAL

Beautiful Light Love Sight Speed

A novel is a mirror which passes over a highway. Sometimes it reflects to your eyes the blue of the skies, at others the churned-up mud of the road.

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A novel is a mirror which passes over a highway. Sometimes it reflects to your eyes the blue of the skies, at others the churned-up mud of the road.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

More Stendhal Quotes