His tongue is by turns a sponge, a brush, a comb. He cleans himself, he smooths himself, he knows what is proper.
Hippolyte TaineWe study ourselves three weeks, we love each other three months, we squabble three years, we tolerate each other thirty years, and then the children start all over again.
Hippolyte TaineTo have a true idea of man or of life, one must have stood himself on the brink of suicide, or on the door-sill of insanity, at least once.
Hippolyte Taine