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

The past was but the cemetery of our illusions: one simply stubbed one’s toes on — Émile Zola

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

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Did not one spend the first half of one’s days in dreams of happiness and the se — Émile Zola
When lovers kiss on the cheeks, it is because they are searching, feeling for on — Émile Zola
If you ask me what I came to do in this world, I, an artist, I will answer you: — Émile Zola
Etre pauvre à Paris, c'est être pauvre deux fois. — Émile Zola
We fret ourselves to reform life, in order that posterity may be happy, and post — Anton Chekhov
When You and I behind the Veil are past, Oh, but the long, long while the World — Omar Khayyám
It is time to be old, To take in sail: — The god of bounds, Who sets to seas a s — Ralph Waldo Emerson
Whilom, ere youth’s conceit had waned, me thought Answers to all life’s problems — Omar Khayyám
Where there is a lull of truth, an institution springs up. But the truth blows r — Henry David Thoreau
While man is growing, life is in decrease, And cradles rock us nearer to the tom — Edward Young
Nam non solum scire aliquid, artis est, sed, quædam ars etiam docendi. — Not only is there an art in knowing a thing
He stood up and looked at me even as the seasons might look down upon the field, — Khalil Gibran