Quotes About Paris

But after taking command of the Army of Italy in 1796, Napoleon took organized theft to a new level. ... The French also stole art at a new level: Napoleon requested that the government send him experts qualified to judge which paintings his men should steal; priceless canvases by Titian, Raphael, Rubens, and Leonardo da Vinci were shipped to Paris.

Suddenly Paris fashion-that bellwether for the French mind-had to be à l'Amérique: tailors manufactured insurgent coats and lightning-conductor dresses (in honor of Ben Franklin, with two wires hanging to the ground).

one were seeking a symbolic moment when this transformation was accomplished, a hinge on which post-war Europe's self-understanding turned, it came in Paris on December 28th 1973 with the first Western publication of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's The Gulag Archipelago. Reviewing the English translation in the Guardian, W. L. Webb wrote 'To live now and not to know this work is to be a kind of historical fool, missing a crucial part of the consciousness of the age.

His wife, she was told by a chatty guidebook, had been born in Paris, and had taken Directoire ideas and married them to Old British Empire with verandahs. It was built of red brick with cornices and gargoyles and was so very, very vulgar that it was magnificent. Its total disregard of all canons of taste was dramatic and oddly endearing.

FALLIERE WAS TWENTY-EIGHT, with the dark, Gallic looks of someone who seemed like he'd be more at home DJing trance music in an underground Paris nightclub than poring over reams of printed computer code during a commute on the Métro. In reality, he was fairly shy and reserved, and sifting through dense computer code was in fact a much bigger draw to him than spending sweaty nights in a throbbing club.

I had forgotten how gently time passes in Paris. As lively as the city is, there's a stillness to it, a peace that lures you in. In Paris, with a glass of wine in your hand, you can just be.

I had forgotten how gently time passes in Paris. As lively as the city is, there's a stillness to it, a peace that lures you in. In Paris, with a glass of wine in your hand, you can just be. All along the Seine, street lamps come on, apartment windows turn golden. "It's seven," Julien says, and I realize that he has been keeping time all along, waiting. He is so American. No sitting idle, forgetting oneself, not for this young man of mine.

We are outside again, walking, when he takes a bite and stops dead. "Wow," he says after a minute. Then, "Wow," again. I smile. Everyone remembers their first taste of Paris. This will be his.

Paris is the only city in the world where starving to death is still considered an art.

My favourite example (of ex-patriotism) is James Joyce, who left Ireland at nineteen and never came back. But he spent the rest of his life writing about Ireland from the perspective of living in Paris.

I had always assumed that cliche was a suburb of Paris, until I discovered it to be a street in Oxford.

Be bolder. Think bigger. Come on, there has to be somewhere exciting. The Taj Mahal, Paris—" "We can't go to Paris." "Says who?" "Ahh . . ." "Never met Ahhh, don't know him, don't care how big he is—if he's standing in our way? I'ma murder the son of a bitch." "You are so adorable.

Paris is a woman but London is an independent man puffing his pipe in a pub.

And it's finally only in the woods you get that nostalgia for cities at last, you dream of long gray journeys to cities where soft evenings'll unfold like Paris but never seeing how sickening it will be because of the primordial innocence of health and stillnes in the wilds- So I tell myself Be Wise.

If I ever went to Paris,' said Francis, unexpectedly pensive, 'I think I would be very happy...

Paris's neighborhoods, the arrondissements, are organized like a twist. They spiral from the river like toilet water flushing in reverse and erupting out of the bowl - a corkscrew or what have you, a flattened pig's tail, a whorling braid notched one to 20.

The media circus got a bit twisted when I was in London. It became a bit of a joke, really. In Paris, they're so serious, I can take myself really seriously, too. I can get really morbid without people telling me to cheer up.

I spent two weeks in Paris by myself. That was my first time in Europe.

When we arrived in London, my sadness at leaving Paris was turned into despair. After my long stay in the French capital, huge, ponderous, massive London seemed to me as ugly a thing as man could contrive to make.

I grew up in the Ukraine and then I went to Paris in 1996. I went there because there was a modeling agency that invited me there to work so I thought, 'Sure.'

After the 'war to end war' they seem to have been pretty successful in Paris at making a 'Peace to end Peace.

On July 16 and 17, 1942, 13,152 Jews were arrested in Paris and the suburbs, deported and assassinated at Auschwitz. In the Vélodrome d'Hiver that once stood on this spot, 1,129 men, 2,916 women, and 4,115 children were packed here in inhuman conditions by the government of the Vichy police, by order of the Nazi occupant. May those who tried to save them be thanked. Passerby, never forget!

On July 16 and 17, 1942, 13,152 Jews were arrested in Paris and the suburbs, deported and assassinated at Auschwitz. In the Vélodrome d'Hiver that once stood on this spot, 1,129 men, 2,916 women, and 4,115 children were

You show up in Paris, and on the drive from the airport to the hotel you're like, 'This is so cool! I want to see something! I want to go to the Eiffel Tower!' And then you leave the next morning. You think, Oh, I didn't get to do anything. I tell people: I've been just about everywhere, but I've seen nothing.