The cemetery is filled with indispensable men.

It's impossible in normal times to rally a nation that has 265 kinds of cheese.

Old France, weighed down with history, prostrated by wars and revolutions, endlessly vacillating from greatness to decline, but revived, century after century, by the genius of renewal!

There can be no other criterion, no other standard than gold. Yes, gold which never changes, which can be shaped into ingots, bars, coins, which has no nationality and which is eternally and universally accepted as the unalterable fiduciary value par excellence.

Once upon a time there was an old country, wrapped up in habit and caution. We have to transform our old France into a new country and marry it to its time.

No country without an atom bomb could properly consider itself independent.

Victory often goes to the army that makes the least mistakes, not the most brilliant plans.