Sidonie Gabrielle Colette Quotes
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Voluptuaries, consumed by their senses, always begin by flinging themselves with a great display of frenzy into an abyss. But they survive, they come to the surface again. And they develop a routine of the abyss: It's four o clock. At five I have my abyss.
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It is not a bad thing that children should occasionally, and politely, put parents in their place.
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A woman who thinks she is intelligent demands the same rights as man. An intelligent woman gives up.
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I believe there are more urgent and honorable occupations than the incomparable waste of time we call suffering.
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Be happy. It's one way of being wise.
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The true traveler is he who goes on foot, and even then, he sits down a lot of the time.
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At the top of the iron staircase leading to the stage, the good, dry, dusty warmth wraps me round like a comfortable dirty cloak.
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Hope costs nothing.
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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.
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In the matter of furnishing, I find a certain absence of ugliness far worse than ugliness.
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The faults of husbands are often caused by the excess virtues of their wives.
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You do not notice changes in what is always before you.
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Don't cudgel your brains over my little problems.
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When she raises her eyelids it's as if she were taking off all her clothes.
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No one asked you to be happy. Get to work.
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You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.
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I am indebted to the cat for a particular kind of honorable deceit, for a greater control over myself, for a characteristic aversion to brutal sounds, and for the need to keep silent for long periods of time.
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What a wonderful life I've had! I only wish I'd realized it sooner.
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Among all the modernized aspects of the most luxurious of industries, the model, a vestige of voluptuous barbarianism, is like some plunder-laden prey. She is the object of unbridled regard, a living bait, the passive realization of an ideal. No other female occupation contains such potent impulses to moral disintegration as this one, applying as it does the outward signs of riches to a poor and beautiful girl.
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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.
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I did not look for her, because I was afraid of dispelling the mystery we attach to people whom we know only casually.
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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.
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The lovesick, the betrayed, and the jealous all smell alike.
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We only do well the things we like doing.