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The past was but the cemetery of our illusions: one simply stubbed one's toes on the gravestones.

Emile Zola

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Emile Zola
Age: 62 †
Born: 1840
Born: January 1
Died: 1902
Died: January 1
Art Critic
Essayist
Journalist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Photographer
Playwright
Poet
Political Journalist
Short Story Writer
Theatre Critic
Paris
France
Emile Edouard Charles Antoine Zola
Past
Gravestones
Gravestone
Cemetery
Illusions
Toes
Illusion
Simply

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Man's highest duty is to protect animals from cruelty.
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A ruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to lie rotting on the ground.
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If you ask me what I came into this life to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud.
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Why then should money be blamed for all the dirt and crimes it causes? For is love less filthy -- love which creates life?
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Art for me...is a negation of society, an affirmation of the individual, outside of all the rules and all the demands of society.
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It is not necessary that one should humble oneself to deserve assistance, it is sufficient that one should suffer.
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These young people naturally grow up with ideas different from ours, for they are born for times when we shall no longer be here
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They talked so, with secret hearts, without needing words, talking of other things... They could have suddenly continued their confessions aloud, without ceasing to understand each other.
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I would rather die of passion than of boredom.
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The camembert with its venison scent defeats the Marolles and Limbourg dull smells It spreads its exhalation, smothering the other scents under its surprising breath abundance.
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Since the same human mire remains beneath, does not all civilization reduce itself to the superiority of smelling nice and living well?
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She might have liked to try to strangle him with those slender fingers of hers, but she wanted to make a job of it and this great patience with which she waited for her claws to grow was in itself a form of enjoyment.
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How evil life must be if it were indeed necessary that such imploring cries, such cries of physical and moral wretchedness, should ever and ever ascend to heaven!
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Every wave is a water sprite who swims in the current, each current is a path which snakes towards my palace, and my palace is fluidly built at the bottom of the lake, in the triangle of earth, fire and water.
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It is not I who am strong, it is reason, it is truth.
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Civilization will not attain to its perfection until the last stone from the last church falls on the last priest.
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Did not one spend the first half of one's days in dreams of happiness and the second half in regrets and terrors?
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The vague torment of ... ambition.
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Nothing develops intelligence like travel.
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The fate of animals is of greater importance to me than the fear of appearing ridiculous it is indissolubly connected with the fate of men.
Emile Zola