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There are days when solitude, for someone my age, is a heady wine that intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic, and still others when it is a poison that makes you beat your head against the wall.
Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
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Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
Age: 81 †
Born: 1873
Born: January 28
Died: 1954
Died: August 3
Actor
Ghostwriter
Journalist
Librettist
Novelist
Playwright
Prosaist
Screenwriter
Short Story Writer
Writer
Montagne-sur-Loing
Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette
Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
Makes
Beat
Others
Solitude
Intoxicates
Someone
Beats
Heady
Stills
Wine
Tonic
Still
Wall
Seclusion
Head
Solitary
Days
Poison
Freedom
Bitter
More quotes by Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
There are no ordinary cats.
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Books, books, books. It was not that I read so much. I read and re-read the same ones. But all of them were necessary to me. Their presence, their smell, the letters of their titles, and the texture of their leather bindings.
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Smokers, male and female, inject and excuse idleness in their lives every time they light a cigarette.
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Don't cudgel your brains over my little problems.
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One keeps forgetting old age up to the very brink of the grave.
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I am going away with him to an unknown country where I shall have no past and no name, and where I shall be born again with a new face and an untried heart.
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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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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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A pretty little collection of weaknesses and a terror of spiders are our indispensable stock-in-trade with the men...
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The day after that wedding night I found that a distance of a thousand miles, abyss and discovery and irremediable metamorphosis, separated me from the day before.
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If we want to be sincere, we must admit that there is a well-nourished love and an ill-nourished love. And the rest is literature.
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There is no need to waste pity on young girls who are having their moments of disillusionment, for in another moment they will recover their illusion.
Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
beautiful December grapes, blue as plums, every grape a little skinful of sweet, tasteless water
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Truffles must come to the table in their own stock and as you break open this jewel sprung from a poverty-stricken soil, imagine - if you have never visited it - the desolate kingdom where it rules.
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The only virtue on which I pride myself is my self-doubt when a writer loses her self-doubt, the time has come to lay aside her pen.
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By an image we hold on to our lost treasures, but it is the wrenching loss that forms the image, composes, binds the bouquet.
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It is wise to apply the oil of refined politeness to the mechanisms of friendship.
Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
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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If he's getting married, he's not longer interesting.
Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
Writing only leads to more writing.
Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
