If you have passed one month among the people condemned to hard work in the fields, with black bread and water, and you then find that gang of golden parasites ['nos petites poupées', he called the women from Paris; the rich and super-rich to spend their summers in Deauville and Trouville.] with such a triumphant air, you can't help feeling a bit of pity.

As quoted in exh. text; 'Eugène Boudin', ed. Christoph Bode, Musée Jacquemart-André, Paris, July 2013