Beauty is nothing but a promise of happiness.
STENDHALThe sight of anything extremely beautiful, in nature or in art, brings back the memory of what one loves, with the speed of lightning.
More Stendhal Quotes
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If you think of paying court to the men in power, your eternal ruin is assured.
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True love makes the thought of death frequent, easy, without terrors; it merely becomes the standard of comparison, the price one would pay for many things.
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Perhaps men who cannot love passionately are those who feel the effect of beauty most keenly; at any rate this is the strongest impression women can make on them.
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One of the traits of genius is not to drag its thought through the rut worn by vulgar minds.
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People who have been made to suffer by certain things cannot be reminded of them without a horror which paralyses every other pleasure, even that to be found in reading a story.
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Sometimes the impact of Mozart’s music is so immediate that the vision in the mind remains blurred and incomplete, while the soul seems to be directly invaded, drenched in wave upon wave of melancholy.
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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.
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I see but one rule: to be clear.
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Signs cannot be represented, in a spy’s report, so damningly as words.
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It is from cowardice and not from want of enlightenment that we do not read in our own hearts.
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Never had he found himself so close to those terrible weapons of feminine artillery.
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The more a race is governed by its passions, the less it has acquired the habit of cautious and reasoned argument, the more intense will be its love of music.
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In matters of sentiment, the public has very crude ideas; and the most shocking fault of women is that they make the public the supreme judge of their lives.
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I call “crystallization” that action of the mind that discovers fresh perfections in its beloved at every turn of events.
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The ordinary procedure of the nineteenth century is that when a powerful and noble personage encounters a man of feeling, he kills, exiles, imprisons or so humiliates him that the other, like a fool, dies of grief.
STENDHAL






