Great buildings, like great mountains, are the work of centuries.

This child whom we Love, Brings daylight Into our soul.

Civilization survives on the constant discovery of amity and an equal supply of damnation.

If a writer wrote merely for his time, I would have to break my pen and throw it away.

I dislike wealth and prosperity, especially that of other men.

Well, for us, in history where goodness is a rare pearl, he who was good almost takes precedence over he who was great.

Jean Prouvaire was timid only in repose. Once excited, he burst forth, a sort of mirth accentuated his enthusiasm, and he was at once both laughing and lyric.