Gustave Flaubert - Heart Quotes

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But there is no more spring in my heart than there is on the highroad, where the wind wearies the eyes and the dust rises in whirling clouds.

Gustave Flaubert
Boredom, that silent spider, was spinning its web in the darkness in every corner of her heart.

Gustave Flaubert
Her heart remained empty once more, and the procession of days all alike began again. So they were going to follow one another, like this, in line, always identical, innumerable, bringing nothing!

Gustave Flaubert
After the pain of this disappointment her heart once more stood empty, and the succession of identical days began again.

Gustave Flaubert
How we keep these dead souls in our hearts. Each one of us carries within himself his necropolis.

Gustave Flaubert
Only three things are infinite. The sky in its stars, the sea in its drops of water, and the heart in its tears.

Gustave Flaubert
Love, she thought, must come suddenly, with great outbursts and lightnings,—a hurricane of the skies, which falls upon life, revolutionises it, roots up the will like a leaf, and sweeps the whole heart into the abyss.

Gustave Flaubert
Are the days of winter sunshine just as sad for you, too? When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins.

Gustave Flaubert
You need a high degree of corruption or a very big heart to love absolutely everything

Gustave Flaubert
He was bored now when Emma suddenly began to sob on his breast; and his heart, like the people who can only stand a certain amount of music, became drowsy through indifference to the vibrations of a love whose subtleties he could no longer distinguish.

Gustave Flaubert
There isn't a bourgeois alive who in the ferment of his youth, if only for a day or for a minute, hasn't thought himself capable of boundless passions and noble exploits. The sorriest little woman-chaser has dreamed of Oriental queens; in a corner of every notary's heart lie the moldy remains of a poet.

Gustave Flaubert
I like prostitution. My heart has never failed to pound at the sight of one of those provocatively dressed women walking in the rain under the gaslamps, just as the sight of monks in their robes and girdles touches some ascetic, hidden corner of my soul.

Gustave Flaubert