Great Throughts Treasury

This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.

Guy de Maupassant, fully Henri Rene Albert Guy de Maupassant

French Short-Story Writer and Novelist

"The great artists are those who impose their peculiar illusion on the rest of mankind."

"To love very much is to love inadequately; we love - that is all. Love cannot be modified without being nullified. Love is a short word but it contains everything. Love means the body, the soul, the life, the entire being."

"A man forced to spend his life without ever having the right, without ever finding the time, to shut himself up all alone, no matter where, to think, to reflect, to work, to dream? Ah! my dear boy, a key, the key of a door which one can lock — this is happiness, mark you, the only happiness!"

"A boat with an awning and Containing four women: towards em cam slowly downstream. The woman at the oars was small, lean, and past her prime. She wore her hair pinned up inside an oilskin hat. Opposite her a big blond dressed in a man's jacket was lying on her back at the bottom of the boat with a foot resting on the thwart on Either side of the oarswoman. The blond was smoking a cigarette and With Each jerk of the oars her bosom and belly quivered. At the very stern of the boat under the awning two beautiful, tall, slender girls, one blonde and the other brunette, sat with Their arms round each other 's waists watching Their two companions. A shout Went up from La Grenouillere: Aye-aye ! Lesbos! And Suddenly a wild clamor broke out. In the terrifying scramble to see, Were glasses knocked over and people started climbing on the tables. Everyone Began to chant Lesbos! Lesbos! Lesbos! The words merged into a wave Suddenly howl before starting up again, rising into the air, filling the plain beyond, resounding in the dense foliage of the tall surrounding trees and echoing in the distance as if Aimed at the sun itself . - Guy Maupassant , A Parisian Affair and Other Stories"

"A curtain of uninterrupted white flakes shimmered ever down to earth and he faded forms, powdered things in a foam ice and we did not hear in the silence of the quiet town and buried in the winter, that vague, nameless floating and falling snow, a sensation rather than a sound, mingling of light atoms which seemed to fill the space, cover the world wrinkling."

"A disabused pleasure-seeker, he overthrew beliefs, hopes, poetic ideals and chimeras, destroyed the aspirations, ravaged the confidence of souls, killed love, dragged down the chivalrous worship of women, crushed the illusions of hearts, and accomplished the most gigantic task ever attempted by skepticism. He spared nothing with his mocking spirit, and exhausted everything. And even to-day those who execrate him seem to carry in their own souls particles of his thought."

"A human being - what is a human being? Everything and nothing. Through the power of thought it can mirror everything it experiences. Through memory and knowledge it becomes a microcosm, carrying the world within itself. A mirror of things, a mirror of facts. Each human being becomes a little universe within the universe!"

"A legal kiss is never as good as a stolen one."

"A listener would have thought at last that the one role of woman on earth was a perpetual sacrifice of her person, a continual abandonment of herself to the caprices of a hostile soldiery."

"A sick thought can devour the body's flesh more than fever or consumption."

"A life! Few days and then nothing! We are born, we grow, we are happy, we are waiting, and then you die."

"A man in love is removed from the list of the living. Devine idiot, not only stupid, but dangerous. Switches, men love me or at least pretend to be any close relationship, first because I get bored, then that becomes suspect, as a rabid dog that may have a crisis. He therefore move in moral quarantine until it heals. Do not forget that. I know very well that you, love is just a kind of lust, while to me it is, instead, a sort of communion of souls, which is not part of the religion of men. You understand the point, and I spirit."

"Again I waited - oh, but for a brief interval: I presently distinguished an extraordinary shuffling and stamping of feet on the staircase, on the floors, on the carpets; a sound not only of boots and' human shoes, but tapping of crutches, of crutches of wood, and knocking of iron crutches which clanged like cymbals. And behold, I perceived, all at once, on the door sill, an armchair, my large reading chair, which came waddling out. Right into the garden it went, followed by others, the chairs of my drawing room, then the comfortable settee, crawling like crocodiles on their short legs; next, all my chairs bounding like goats, and the small footstools which followed like rabbits. Oh, what a hideous surprise! I stepped back behind the shrubs, where I stayed, crouched and watching this procession of my furniture; for out they all came, one behind the other, quickly or slowly according to their form and weight. My piano - my large grand piano - passed at a canter like a horse, with a faint murmur of music from within; the smallest objects crawled on the gravel like ants - brushes, glasses and cups glistening in the rays of the moon with phosphorescence like glowworms. The curtains, tablecloths and, draperies wriggled along, with their feelers in the puddles like the cuttlefish in the sea. Suddenly I beheld my pet bureau, a rare specimen of the last century, and which contained all my correspondence, all my love letters, the whole history of my heart, an old history of how much I have suffered!"

"A strange art ? music ? the most poetic and precise of all the arts, vague as a dream and precise as algebra."

"And taking her friend?s hand, she put it on her breast, on that firm round covering of a woman?s heart which the male often finds so satisfying that he makes no attempt to find what lies beneath it."

"All was said with due restraint and regard for propriety, the effect heightened now and then by an outburst of forced enthusiasm calculated to excite emulation."

"And within, besides, were, above all, certain photographs! (Who Knows?)"

"Anguish of suspense made men even desire the arrival of enemies."

"At first no one spoke. Boule de Suif dared not even raise her eyes. She felt at once indignant with her neighbors, and humiliated at having yielded to the Prussian into whose arms they had so hypocritically cast her."

"Any government has as much of a duty to avoid war as a ship's captain has to avoid a shipwreck."

"Because it is useless, and I tell them so at once. If you had confessed your fears to me sooner, I would have reassured you. My dear friend, a man in love is not only foolish but dangerous. I cease all intercourse with people who love me or pretend to; firstly, because they bore me, and secondly, because I look upon them with dread, as I would upon a mad dog. I know that your love is only a kind of appetite; while with me it would be a communion of souls. Now, look me in the face? she no longer smiled. I will never be your sweetheart; it is therefore useless for you to persist in your efforts. And now that I have explained, shall we be friends?"

"Broad daylight does not encourage the apprehension of horror."

"But as he felt an infinite worth to discover ideas, he took the specialty declamations on the decadence of morals on lowering characters, the collapse of patriotism and anemia of French honor. (He found the word anemia of which he was proud.)"

"Besides, who would have been the wiser? She might have saved appearances by telling the officer that she had taken pity on their distress. Such a step would be of so little consequence to her."

"At the end of a short time, once the first terror had subsided, calm was again restored. In many houses the Prussian officer ate at the same table with the family. He was often well-bred, and, out of politeness, expressed sympathy with France and repugnance at being compelled to take part in the war. This sentiment was received with gratitude; besides, his protection might be needful some day or other."

"But he asked himself now if he would not be disobeying God. And does not God permit love, since He surrounds it with such visible splendor?"

"But keep in remembrance, in the coming days, it was more than a memory, was a kind of sense of this unreal and persistent that woman. It seemed that he had taken part in it, her body image kept in his eyes and savor her moral being kept in his heart. Stay obsession with image, as happens sometimes when you spend hours on end with someone full of delight. It says that you are under the spell of a strange famed intimate puzzled, and subtly disturbing because it is full of mystery."

"But now he himself asked if he would not be disobeying god. And does not god permit love, since he surrounds it with visible such splendor?"

"But no one as yet confessed to such thoughts."

"By Jove, it's great! Walk along the streets on some spring morning. The little women, daintily tripping along, seem to blossom out like flowers. What a delightful, charming sight! The dainty perfume of violet is everywhere. The city is gay, and everybody notices the women. By Jove, how tempting They Are In Their light, thin dresses, All which occasionally give one a glimpse of the delicate pink flesh beneath! One saunters along, head up, mind alert, and eyes open. I tell you it's great! You see her in the distance, while still a block away, You Already Know That She is going to please you at closer quarters You can Recognize her by the flower on her hat, the toss of her head, or her gait She approaches, and? you say to yourself: 'Look out, here she is!' You come closer to her and you devour her with your eyes. Is it a young girl running errands for some store, a young woman returning from church, or hastening to see her lover? What do you care? Her well-rounded bosom shows through the thin waist. Oh, If You Could only take her in your arms and fondle and kiss her! Her glance May be timid or bold, her hair light or dark. What difference does it make? She brushes against you, and a cold shiver runs down your spine. Oh, how you wish for her all day! How many of thesis dear creatures have I put this way, and how wildly in love I would have been had I known more intimately them. Have you ever noticed that the ones we would love the most distractedly are Those Whom We never meet to know? Curious, is not it? From time to time we barely catch a glimpse of some woman, the mere sight of whom thrills our senses. But it goes no further. When I think of all the lovely creatures That I have elbowed in the streets of Paris, I fairly rave Who are they Where are they Where can I find 'em again There is a proverb says That All which happiness Often passes our way,.!? I am safe That I have Often Passed Alongside the one Have you Could have caught me like a linnet in the snare of her fresh beauty. - Guy de Maupassant , Selected Short Stories"

"Certainly solitude is dangerous for active minds. We require around us men who can think and talk. When we are alone for a long time, we people space with phantoms."

"Do we see the hundred thousandth part of what exists? Look, here is the wind, which is the greatest force of nature, which knocks men, and blows down buildings, uproots trees, raises the sea into mountains of water, destroys cliffs and casts great ships onto the breakers, the wind which kills, which whistles, which sighs, which roars, - have you seen, and can you see it? There are, though."

"Conversation. What is it? A Mystery! It's the art of never seeming bored, of touching everything with interest, of pleasing with trifles, of being fascinating with nothing at all. How do we define this lively darting about with words, of hitting them back and forth, this sort of brief smile of ideas which should be conversation?"

"Charming, charming, 'the lawyer said at intervals."

"By nature independent, gay, even exuberant, seductively responsive and given to those spontaneous sallies that sparkle in the conversation of certain daughters of Paris who seem to have inhaled since childhood the pungent breath of the boulevards laden with the nightly laughter of audiences leaving theaters, Madame de Burne's five years of bondage had nonetheless endowed her with a singular timidity which mingled oddly with her youthful mettle, a great fear of saying too much, of going to far, along with a fierce yearning for emancipation and a firm resolve never again to compromise her freedom."

"Duroy, who felt light hearted that evening, said with a smile: you are gloomy to-day, dear master. The poet replied: I am always so, young man, so will you be in a few years. Life is a hill. As long as one is climbing up one looks towards the summit and is happy, but when one reaches the top one suddenly perceives before the descent one, and its bottom, which is death. One climbs up slowly, one leg goes quickly down. At your age a man is happy. He hopes for many things, which, by the way, never come to pass. At me, one no longer expects anything - but death. Duroy began to laugh: you make me shudder all over."

"Everything is false, everything is possible, everything is doubtful."

"For several days in succession fragments of a defeated army had passed through the town. They were mere disorganized bands, not disciplined forces. The men wore long, dirty beards and tattered uniforms; they advanced in listless fashion, without a flag, without a leader. All seemed exhausted, worn out, incapable of thought or resolve, marching onward merely by force of habit, and dropping to the ground with fatigue the moment they halted."

"Do women feel anything more keenly than curiosity? No, they will go to any lengths to find out, to know, to feel, what they have always dreamed of! Once their excited curiosity has been aroused, women will stoop to anything, commit any folly, take any risks. They stop at nothing. I am speaking of women who are real women, who operate on three different levels. Superficially cool and rational, they have three secret compartments: the first is constantly full of womanly fret and anxiety; the second is a sort of innocent guile, like the fearsome sophistry of the self-righteous; and the last is filled with an engaging dishonesty, a charming deviousness, a consummate duplicity, with all those perverse qualities in fact that can drive a foolish, unwary love to suicide, but which by others may be judged quite delightful."

"Every government has as much of a duty to avoid war as a ship's captain has to avoid a shipwreck."

"For the same sensation reappears whenever the established order of things is reversed, that security does not exist, that all laws protecting men are those of nature, is to thank you for an unconscious brutality and fierce."

"For the first time, Duroy thought of all that in her past was hidden and began to speculate. Obviously she'd already had lovers, but what sort they were and what kind of society did they come from? A vague jealousy, a sort of hostility against her, stirred in him, year hostility directed against everything that he did not know about her, all that part of her feelings and life which did not belong to him. He looked at her, irritated by the secrets hidden in that pretty, silent little head, which perhaps at that very moment was thinking with regret of another man, of other men. How he would have liked to peer into her memories, them explore and learn all there was to know about them"

"Get black on white."

"He had a fund of small talk, a pleasant voice, a caressing glance and his moustache was irresistible. Crisp and curly, it curved charmingly over his lip, fair with auburn tints, slightly paler where it bristled at the ends."

"Great minds that are healthy are never considered geniuses, while this sublime qualification is lavished on brains that are often inferior but are slightly touched by madness."

"He stared fixedly at the opposite bank where an angler was fishing, his line perfectly still. All of a sudden the man jerked out of the water a little sliver fish which wriggled at the end of his line. Twisting and turning it this way and that he tried to extract his hook, but in vain. Losing patience he started pulling and, as he did so, tore out the entire bloody gullet of the fish with parts of its intestines attached. Paul shuddered, feeling himself equally torn apart. It seemed to him that the hook was like his own love and that if he were to tear it out he too would be gutted by a piece of curved wire hooked deep into his essential self at the end of a line held by Madeleine."

"How fathomless the mystery of the Unseen is! We cannot plumb its depths with our feeble senses - with eyes which cannot see the infinitely small or the infinitely great, nor anything too close or too distant, such as the beings who live on a star or the creatures which live in a drop of water... with ears that deceive us by converting vibrations of the air into tones that we can hear, for they are sprites which miraculously change movement into sound, a metamorphosis which gives birth to harmonies which turn the silent agitation of nature into song... with our sense of smell, which is poorer than any dog's... with our sense of taste, which is barely capable of detecting the age of a wine! Ah! If we had other senses which would work other miracles for us, how many more things would we not discover around us!"

"He walked on slowly, dreaming aloud, forgetting That He Almost had a listener: And no one ever returns - never. The model of the statue May be preserved, But my body, my making, my thoughts, my desires Will never reappear again. And yet millions of Beings Will Be born with a nose, eyes, forehead, cheeks, and mouth like me, and Also a soul like me, without my ever returning, without anything Even Recognizable of me appearing in countless different These Beings. What can we cling to? What can we believe in? All religions are stupid, with childish morality and their egotistical their promises, monstrously absurd. Certain Death is alone."

"How weak our mind is; how quickly it is terrified and unbalanced as soon as we are confronted with a small, incomprehensible fact. Instead of dismissing the problem with: "We do not understand because we cannot find the cause," we immediately imagine terrible mysteries and supernatural powers."

"I did not love her; I did not even know her. And for all that, I was touched and conquered. I wanted to save her, to sacrifice myself for her, to commit a thousand follies! Strange thing! How does it happen that the presence of a woman overwhelms us so? Is it the power of her grace which enfolds us? Is it the seduction of her beauty and youth, which intoxicates one like wine? Is it not rather the touch of Love, of Love the Mysterious, who seeks constantly to unite two beings, who tries his strength the instant he has put a man and a woman face to face?"