Quotes About Paris

One's emotions are intensified in Paris—one can be more happy and also more unhappy here than in any other place. But it is always a positive source of joy to live here, and there is nobody so miserable as a Parisian in exile from his town.

Send me 300 francs; that sum will enable me to go to Paris. There, at least, one can cut a figure and surmount obstacles. Everything tells me I shall succeed. Will you prevent me from doing so for the want of 100 crowns?

Te voilà ! petit Parisien, me dit le père Dodu. Tu viens pour débaucher nos filles ? — Moi, père Dodu ? — Tu les emmènes dans les bois pendant que le loup n'y est pas ? — Père Dodu, c'est vous qui êtes le loup. — Je l'ai été tant que j'ai trouvé des brebis ; à présent je ne rencontre plus que des chèvres, et qu'elles savent bien se défendre !

In reply, Ganteaume telegraphed Paris on 24 March,

Next thing I know you've run off to Paris and thrown yourself under the nearest Frenchman-

Paris, a city of gaieties and pleasures, where four-fifths of the inhabitants die of grief. -- About Paris

Paris, a city of gaieties and pleasures, where four-fifths of the inhabitants die of grief.

Pamper a tomato, overfeed it, overwater it and you will get a Paris Hilton of a tomato.

Paris. Paris. There is something silken and elegant about that word, something carefree, something made for a dance, something brilliant and festive, like champagne. Everything there is beautiful, gay, and a little drunk, and festooned with lace.

Exiles, she and Leroy. They didn't need to go to Paris; that would do no good. What's the point of being spat on in France? What could they do in Rio, where black people are a mythological presence? No, the frontiers in Leroy's destiny were the sounds he heard and gave back as music; for Cypress the terrain of the new world was art. Her dance, like her people before her, adapted to the contours of her new land.

But one gets tired of everything, even of abusing a person. Paris abandons its puppets which it raises to the throne as quickly as it does its martyrs whom it hoists on the gibbet; in its perpetual hunger for new playthings, it never gets itself excited overly much before the statues of its heroes or at the sight of the blood of its victims.

The last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay.I heard the laughter of her heart in every street café.

When good Americans die they go to Paris.

Mrs. Allonby: They say, Lady Hunstanton, that when good Americans die they go to Paris.Lady Hunstanton: Indeed? And when bad Americans die, where do they go to?Lord Illingworth: Oh, they go to America.

Das Fräulein Scuderi? Bei meiner Seele! In diesem Wort weht 'was von ihrem Atem. Und kommt's von ihr, dann hat dies kleine Lied Eine Geschichte, die mich intressiert.

Pont Neuf, the oldest bridge in Paris.

gift.) I'm not bothered by the famous Parisian

For me the autumn has never been a sad season. The dead leaves and the increasingly shorter days have never suggested the end of anything, but rather an expectation of the future. In paris, there is an electricity in the air in october evenings at nightfall. Even when it is raining. i do not feel low at that hour of the day, nor do i have the sense of time flying by. i have the impression that everything is possible. the year begins in the month of october.

Ever since, the Paris wherein I have tried to retrace her steps has remained as silent and deserted as it was on that day. I walk through empty streets. For me, they are always empty, even at dusk, during the rush hour, when the crowds are hurrying towards the mouths of the métro. I think of her in spite of myself, sensing an echo of her presence in this neighborhood or that.

I was happy when I walked the streets of Paris by myself.

Depuis, le Paris où j'ai tenté de retrouver sa trace est demeuré aussi désert et silencieux que ce jour-là. Je marche à travers les rues vides. Pour moi, elles le restent, même le soir, à l'heure des embouteillages, quand les gens se pressent vers les bouches de métro. Je ne peux pas m'empêcher de penser à elle et de sentir un écho de sa présence dans certains quartiers.

For me, autumn has never been a sad season. The dying leaves and the days that grow shorter and shorter have never evoked the end of something for me but instead brought with them anticipation for the future. In Paris, during these October evenings, there is an electricity in the air at dusk. Even when it rains. I don't feel down at that time of night, nor does it seem that time is passing too swiftly. I have the feeling that anything is possible.

Il existait à Paris des zones intermédiaires, des no man's land où l'on était à la lisière de tout, en transit, ou même en suspens.

Le moment de la journée que je préférais, c'était à Paris l'hiver entre six heures et huit heures et demie du matin, quand il faisait encore nuit. Un répit avant le lever du jour. Le temps était en suspens et l'on se sentait plus léger que d'habitude.