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admired Anatole France artist Balzac Baudelaire Baudelaire's beauty believe Beyle Blake Bourget Brandes Brunetiere Byron called Christian Civita Vecchia colour confessed criticism death despite drama Durtal egoism Ernest Hello essay eyes faith father fiction Flaubert French genius George Sand Goethe Goncourt Hello Henry Hugo human Huysmans Huysmans's Ibsen ideal ideas irony Joris-Karl Huysmans Jules Laforgue letters literary literature lived Madame Bovary Manet master Maurice Barres Max Stirner Me"rime"e Milan modern moral mystic Napoleon nature never Nietz Nietzsche Nietzsche's novel once painted painter Paris Parisian Pascal passion Pater Paul Bourget philosopher phrase picture plays poem poet Poictevin portrait prose Rebours Renan Richard Wagner romantic Rome Rops Saint Antony Sainte-Beuve Schopenhauer sentimental Sentimental Education social soul spiritual Sten Stendhal Stendhalians Stryienski style Taine temperament things thinker tion verse Walter Pater woman women write wrote young youth Zola
Page 104 - Ah, did you once see Shelley plain, And did he stop and speak to you And did you speak to him again? How strange it seems and new!
Page 287 - Why, so can I, or so can any man ; But will they come, when you do call for them ? Glend.
Page 367 - Liberty is not a means to a higher political end. It is itself the highest political end. It is not for the sake of a good public administration that it is required, but for security in the pursuit of the highest objects of civil society, and of private life.
Page 371 - Is it not the chief disgrace in the world not to be an unit, not to be reckoned one character —- not to yield that peculiar fruit which each man was created to bear, but to be reckoned in the gross, in the hundred, or the thousand, of the party, the section, to which we belong; and our opinion predicted geographically, as the north, or the south?
Page 289 - Hartley is what he always was, a strange, strange boy, 'exquisitely wild,' an utter visionary, like the moon among thin clouds he moves in a circle of light of his own making. He alone is a light of his own.
Page 199 - When you have no taste you have no discretion, which is the conscience of taste, and when you have no discretion you perpetrate books like Rome...
Page 71 - I love Wagner; but the music I prefer is that of a cat hung up by his tail outside of a window, and trying to stick to the panes of glass with its claws. There is an odd grating on the glass which I find at the same time strange, irritating, and singularly harmonious.
Page 313 - Hers is the head upon which all the ends of the world are come, and the eyelids are a little weary. It is a beauty wrought out from within upon the flesh, the deposit, little cell by cell, of strange thoughts and fantastic reveries and exquisite passions.
Page 15 - My country is where there are most people like me — Cosmopolis ! The only excuse for God is that he does not exist ! Verse was invented to aid the memory ! A volume of maxims, witty and immoral, might be gathered from the writings of Stendhal that would equal Rivarol and Rochefoucauld. "I require three or four cubic feet of new ideas per day, as a steamboat requires coal,