Quotes from Sidonie Gabrielle Colette

It is wise to apply the oil of refined politeness to the mechanism of friendship.

In the matter of furnishing, I find a certain absence of ugliness far worse than ugliness.

Boredom helps one to make decisions.

Smokers, male and female, inject and excuse idleness in their lives every time they light a cigarette.

Look for a long time at what pleases you, and for a longer time at what pains you.

Perhaps the only misplaced curiosity is that which persists in trying to find out here, on this side of death, what lies beyond the grave.

You must not pity me because my sixtieth year finds me still astonished. To be astonished is one of the surest ways of not growing old too quickly.

As for an authentic villain, the real thing, the absolute, the artist, one rarely meets him even once in a lifetime. The ordinary bad hat is always in part a decent fellow.

Jealousy is not at all low, but it catches us humbled and bowed down, at first sight.

To a poet, silence is an acceptable response, even a flattering one.

There is no need to waste pity on young girls who are having their moments of disillusionment, for in another moment they will recover their illusion.

Smokers, male and female, inject and excuse idleness in their lives every time they light a cigarette.

If we want to be sincere, we must admit that there is a well-nourished love and an ill-nourished love. And the rest is literature.

The day after that wedding night I found that a distance of a thousand miles, abyss and discovery and irremediable metamorphosis, separated me from the day before.

If I can't have too many truffles, I'll do without truffles.

Sincerity is not a spontaneous flower nor is modesty either.

A pretty little collection of weaknesses and a terror of spiders are our indispensable stock-in-trade with the men...

I am going away with him to an unknown country where I shall have no past and no name, and where I shall be born again with a new face and an untried heart.

You do not notice changes in what is always before you.

One keeps forgetting old age up to the very brink of the grave.

By means of an image we are often able to hold on to our lost belongings. But it is the desperateness of losing which picks the flowers of memory, binds the bouquet.

Perhaps the only misplaced curiosity is that which persists in trying to find out here, on this side of death, what lies beyond the grave.

It is wise to apply the oil of refined politeness to the mechanism of friendship.

But just as delicate fare does not stop you from craving for saveloys, so tried and exquisite friendship does not take away your taste for something new and dubious.