There are in me, in literary terms, two distinct characters: one who is taken with roaring, with lyricism, with soaring aloft, with all the sonorities of phrase and summits of thought; and the other who digs and scratches for truth all he can, who is as interested in the little facts as the big ones, who would like to make you feel materially the things he reproduces.
Gustave FlaubertThey took each other's advice, opened one book, went over to another, then did not know what to decide when opinions diverged so widely.
Gustave FlaubertAfter the pain of this disappointment her heart once more stood empty, and the succession of identical days began again.
Gustave FlaubertHe loved a book because it was a book; he loved its odor, its form, its title. What he loved in a manuscript was its old illegible date, the bizarre and strange Gothic characters, the heavy gilding which loaded its drawings. It was its pages covered with dust — dust of which he breathed the sweet and tender perfume with delight.
Gustave Flaubert