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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.
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
Loses
Virtue
Doubt
Come
Pens
Self
Aside
Time
Lays
Pride
Writer
More quotes by Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
Jealousy is not at all low, but it catches us humbled and bowed down, at first sight.
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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.
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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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In its early stages, insomnia is almost an oasis in which those who have to think or suffer darkly take refuge.
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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 went to collect the few personal belongings which...I held to be invaluable: my cat, my resolve to travel, and my solitude.
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At sixty-three years of age, less a quarter, one still has plans.
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Don't cudgel your brains over my little problems.
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Writing only leads to more writing.
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We only do well the things we like doing.
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So now, whenever I despair, I no longer expect my end, but some bit of luck, some commonplace little miracle which, like a glittering link, will mend again the necklace of my days.
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January, month of empty pockets! let us endure this evil month, anxious as a theatrical producer's forehead.
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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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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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Is suffering so very serious? ...I'm referring to the kind of suffering a man inflicts on a woman or a woman on a man. It's extremely painful... hardly bearable. But I very much fear that this sort of pain... is no more worthy of respect than old age or illness.
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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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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.
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The true traveler is he who goes on foot, and even then, he sits down a lot of the time.
Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
A happy childhood is poor preparation for human contacts.
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No temptation can ever be measured by the value of its object.
Sidonie Gabrielle Colette