The hearts of women are like those little pieces of furniture with secret hiding - places, full of drawers fitted into each other; you go a lot of trouble, break your nails, and in the bottom find some withered flower, a few grains of dust - or emptiness!
Gustave FlaubertAnd the more he was irritated by her basic personality, the more he was drawn to her by a harsh, bestial sensuality, illusions of a moment, which ended in hate.
Gustave FlaubertShe was the amoureuse of all the novels, the heroine of all the plays, the vague โsheโ of all the poetry books.
Gustave Flaubert