When truth is buried, it grows. It chokes. It gathers such an explosive force that on the day it bursts out, it blows up everything with it.
Emile ZolaDid not one spend the first half of one's days in dreams of happiness and the second half in regrets and terrors?
Emile ZolaWhy is it that my heart is so touched whenever I meet a dog lost in our noisy streets? Why do I feel such anguished pity when I see one of these creatures coming and going, sniffing everyone, frightened, despairing of even finding its master?
Emile Zola