COSMOPOLIS, By Paul Bourget

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Conditions of blindness so voluntary
that they become complicity

Despotism natural to puissant
personalities

Egyptian tobacco, mixed with opium and
saltpetre

Follow their thoughts instead of
heeding objects

Has as much sense as the handle of a
basket

Have never known in the morning what I
would do in the evening

I no longer love you

Imagine what it would be never to have
been born

Mediocre sensibility

Melancholy problem of the birth and
death of love

Mobile and complaisant conscience had
already forgiven himself

No flies enter a closed mouth

Not an excuse, but an explanation of
your conduct

One of those trustful men who did not
judge when they loved

Only one thing infamous in love, and
that is a falsehood

Pitiful checker-board of life

Scarcely a shade of gentle
condescension

Sufficed him to conceive the plan of a
reparation

That suffering which curses but does
not pardon

That you can aid them in leading better
lives?

The forests have taught man liberty

There is an intelligent man, who never
questions his ideas

There is always and everywhere a duty
to fulfil

Thinking it better not to lie on minor
points

Too prudent to risk or gain much

Walked at the rapid pace characteristic
of monomaniacs

Words are nothing; it is the tone in
which they are uttered


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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