Julie > Julie's Quotes

“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.”
― Pablo Picasso

“When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.”
― John Lennon

“Suddenly, all at once, she knows, knows that he doesn't understand her, that he never will, that he lacks the power to understand such perverseness. And that he can never move fast enough to catch her.”
― Marguerite Duras, The Lover

“This is how the entire course of a life can be changed: by doing nothing.”
― Ian McEwan, On Chesil Beach

“No matter how long I live, I shall live longer than you will love me”
― Alexandre Dumas fils, Camille

“Finding yourself in a hole, at the bottom of a hole, in almost total solitude, and discovering that only writing can save you. To be without the slightest subject for a book, the slightest idea for a book, is to find yourself, once again, before a book. A vast emptiness. A possible book. Before nothing. Before something like living, naked writing, like something terrible, terrible to overcome.”
― Marguerite Duras, Writing

“Everything was believed except the truth.”
― Alexandre Dumas fils, La Dame aux Camélias

“No, you're mistaken. Not 'What filthy weather' but 'It's a fine rainy day.”
― Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt

“I can’t explain what I mean. And even if I could, I’m not sure I’d feel like it.”
― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

“Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?”
― L.M. Montgomery

“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.”
― Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

“Let us cultivate our garden.”
― Voltaire, Candide

“For this quiet, unprepossessing, passive man who has no garden in front of his subsidised flat, books are like flowers. He loves to line them up on the shelf in multicoloured rows: he watches over each of them with an old-fashioned gardener's delight, holds them like fragile objects in his thin, bloodless hands.”
― Stefan Zweig, The Post-Office Girl

“Plus un esprit se limite, plus il touche par ailleurs à l'infini. ”
― Stefan Zweig, Chess Story