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Book: Memoirs of a Madman and November
Quotes of Book: Memoirs of a Madman and
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  1. Gustave Flaubert _ Memoirs of a Madman and

    Are you not tired as I am of waking up every morning and seeing the sun all over again? Tired of living the same life, suffering the same sorrow? Tired of desiring, and tired of being sated? Tired of waiting, and tired of possessing?
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  2. Gustave Flaubert _ Memoirs of a Madman and

    Poor human weakness! With your words, your languages, your sounds, you speak and stammer-you define God, the heaven and the earth, chemistry and philosophy, and you cannot express, with your language, all the joy that you derive from a naked woman-or a plum pudding.
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  3. Gustave Flaubert _ Memoirs of a Madman and

    I touched her comb and took it out; her hair came flooding down like a wave, and her long black tresses quivered as they fell to her hips. I immediately ran my hand over it, and in it, and beneath it; I plunged my arm into it, and bathed my face in it, filled with sadness. Sometimes I would enjoy separating it into two, from behind, and then bringing it over her shoulder so as to hide her breasts; then I would bring all her hair together in a mesh, and pull it so that her head came back and her neck was thrown forward; she let me do what I wanted, like a dead woman.
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  4. Gustave Flaubert _ Memoirs of a Madman and

    I love the autumn-that melancholy season that suits memories so well. When the trees have lost their leaves, when the sky at sunset still preserves the russet hue that fills with gold the withered grass, it is sweet to watch the final fading of the fires that until recently burnt within you.
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