Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Rue. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Rue Quotes And Sayings by 89 Authors including William Shakespeare,Damian Green,Stephanie Perkins,Mireille Guiliano,Gillian Flynn for you to enjoy and share.
Katherine. Pardonnez-moi, I cannot tell vat is like me.
KING HENRY. An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel.
KATHERINE. Que dit-il? que je suis semblable a les anges?
Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant
Legacy Damian Green
Welcome to Paris, Anna. I'm glad you've come.
Nothing but beauty and douceur
serve as the Find Amy Dunne
She is of the race of Jeanne d'Arc, this Northern girl, in her voice, her bearing, her beliefs. That kind if not to be possessed by one man; she belongs to a cause, to the people.
Foul fiend of France and hag of all despite,
Encompassed with thy lustful paramours,
Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age
And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
A rake is a composition of all the lowest, most ignoble, degrading, and shameful vices; they all conspire to disgrace his character, and to ruin his fortune; while wine and the pox content which shall soonest and most effectually destroy his constitution.
In French: La Fugitive, Albertine disparue Also translated as: The Sweet Cheat Gone, Albertine Gone
Paris, the FedEx deliveryman of Pleasure and Fatality.
Toulouse Street ran one way toward the Mississippi River. Jackson looked over [Imogene's] head into one of those famous New Orleans courtyards, full of lush foliage, mossy brick, secrets, and wonder.
She [Mme des Laumes] belonged to that half of the human race in whom the curiosity the other half feels about the people it does not know is replaced by an interest in the people it does.
Rivers are roads that move and carry us whither we wish to go.
[Fr., Les rivieres sont des chemins qui marchant et qui portent ou l'on veut aller.]
louche, wearing a gauzy neck scarf and
All the evils of France have been produced less by the perversity of the wicked and the violence of fools than by the hesitation of the weak, the compromises of conscience, and the tardiness of patriotism. Let every deputy, every Frenchman show what he feels, what he thinks, and we are saved!
In a sort of slow flash, Henrietta had her first open view of Paris - watery sky, wet light, light water, frigid, dark-inky buildings, spans of bridges, trees. This open light gash across Paris faded at each end. It was not exactly raining.
Who now travels that dark path from whose bourne they say no one returns.
[Lat., Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum
Illue unde negant redire quemquam.]
There is a point, moreover, at which the unfortunate and the infamous are associated and confounded in a single word, Les Miserables; whose fault is it? And then, is it not when the fall is lowest that charity ought to be greatest?
Tragedy warms the soul, elevates the heart, can and ought to create heroes. In this sense, perhaps, France owes a part of her great actions to Corneille.
Eighteen years a secret and unaccused prisoner in the Bastille;
Claude Jade is a brave nice young lady. But I don't give any guarantee what she will do on a taxi's back seat.
How many like Antoine were roaming the world, weak, afraid, without comrades or the consolation of love, clinging to existence as he did?
Drink from me and live forever.
Lestat de Lioncourt
Paris can kiss my ass.
I think Lafayette wants to rap in French now. I have to go learn some French.
Damn it, Lafayette
Put on a trench, you're suddenly Audrey Hepburn walking along the Seine.
Louisiana was notorious as the last refuge of French whores and scoundrels. By
The words come out of Helen Justineau in a flat monotone. Parks thinks of Gallagher's written report, with its proceeding tos and its thereupons. But Justineau's bowed head and the tightness of her grip on the parapet wall add their own commentary. "I
By speaking of our misfortunes we often relieve them.
[Fr., A raconter ses maux souvent on les soulage.]
There is a French proverb: To live happy, live hidden. Where can Brigitte Bardot hide?
Streets of Paris, pray for me; beaches in the sun, pray for me; ghosts of the lemurs, intercede for me; plane-tree and laurel-rose, shade me; summer rain on quays of Toulon, wash me away.
She's a serial kisser. I think her parents are French.
Ordinary French people. Citizens of fear.
[On her monologue as the thief 'Fontaine':] People always got things. People always want things. So I provide a service.
Weep not for little Leonie, abducted by a French Marquis. Though loss of honor was a wrench, just think how it's improved her French.
Apelles used to paint a good housewife on a snail, to import that she home-keeping.
In the V-shaped opening of her crape bodice Mlle. Vinteuil felt the sting of her friend's sudden kiss; ...
Paris's neighborhoods, the arrondissements, are organized like a twist. They spiral from the river like toilet water flushing in reverse and erupting out of the bowl - a corkscrew or what have you, a flattened pig's tail, a whorling braid notched one to 20.
If poor doomed Olly's a Radio 4 play, what am I?""
"You, Hugo," she kisses my earlobe, "are a sordid, low-budget French film. The sort you'd stumble across on TV at night. You know you'll regret it in the morning, but you keep watching anyway.
She wanted to die, but she also wanted to live in Paris.
Foie gras and caviar tureens. About
Tout le sang qui coule rouge; All blood is red.
L'art
Green arsenic smeared on an egg-white cloth,
Crushed strawberries! Come, let us feast our eyes.
Pity that child who was born near Rouen,
His only crime, to arrive deformed.
It is my wish that my ashes may repose on the banks of the Seine, in the midst of the French people, whom I have loved so well.
For Juliana comes, and she, what I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.
My dad gave me a present once,' Nico said. 'It was a zombie.'
Reyna stared at him. 'What?'
'His name is Jules-Albert. He's French.'
'A ... French zombie?
The charm of Brittany is to be found in the people and in the churches. The former, with their peculiar costumes and their customs, are full of interest, and the latter are of remarkable beauty and quaintness.
They clomp together through the narrow streets, Marie-Laure's hand on the back of Madame's apron, following the odors of her stews and cakes; in such moments Madame seems like a great moving wall of rosebushes, thorny and fragrant and crackling with bees. Still-warm
The Empire was on the point of turning Paris into the bawdy house of Europe. The gang of fortune-seekers who had succeeded in stealing a throne required a reign of adventures, shady transactions, sold consciences, bought women, and rampant drunkenness.
Jean Valjean watched these ravages with anxiety. He who felt that he could never do anything but crawl, walk at the most, beheld wings sprouting on Cosette.
Fortune and love favour the brave.
[Lat., Audentum Forsque Venusque juvant.]
Laissez les bon temps rouler! (Let the good times roll!)
Well, schmear my bagel, if it isn't Mara Dyer.
But what Davenport had been born into had taken so much from her, leaving her with just the wickedest and the worst. Her father had given her life, and then taken every scrap of joy or freedom, and even now that he was dead, all he had left her with was a deep, abiding hatred for what she was.
I would love to be where you are now, in Paris, that home of the planless, the free and joyous and emotional people." What
Aujourd'hui, rien.
That's what Louis XVI wrote in his diary on the day of the storming of the Bastille.
Could anything possibly be more humorous than believing in the depth or in the depravity of the Parisian character?
With her enchanting songs, her rare beauty, and clever tricks, this wild 'wanderess' ensnared my soul like a gypsy-thief, and led me foolish and blind to where you find me now. The first time I saw her, fires were alight. It was a spicy night in Barcelona. The air was fragrant and free.
To propel our Louisiana culture into the future seems to be quite a task, but if one lives for the music as Cedric does, the path seems effortless. These songs may well be early brushstrokes of a life's worth of possibilities, not only for himself, but also for the identity survival of a culture.
Artemis the bitch goddess. You know her. She's the one who stole your soul. (Simi)
She didn't steal it. (Gallagher)
Of course she did. She steals everything. (Simi)
Marie Laurencin.
We'll always have Paris
Nowhere is one more alone than in Paris ... and yet surrounded by crowds. Nowhere is one more likely to incur greater ridicule. And no visit is more essential.
A French woman is a perfect architect in dress: she never, with Gothic ignorance, mixes the orders; she never tricks out a snobby Doric shape with Corinthian finery; or, to speak without metaphor, she conforms to general fashion only when it happens not to be repugnant to private beauty.
Hello, Hazel Levesque.
Et itah se au ma! It is as you wish!
In France, the people were the sport of a king's caprice. Everywhere was the shadow of the Bastille. It fell upon the sunniest field, upon the happiest home.
O blessed bounty, giving ail content!
The only fautress of all noble arts
That lend'st success to every good intent.
A grace that rests in the most godlike hearts,
By heav'n to none but happy souls infus'd
Pity it is, that e'er thou wast abus'd.
Her characters tend to err when they reject the grubby and complex circumstances of everyday life for abstract and radical notions. They thrive when they work within the rooted spot, the concrete habit, the particular reality of their town and family.
Each time somebody working for the Maison has a baby, the atelier creates miniature blouses-blanches, exactly like the ones we wear, with the child's name embroidered across the front. That is our welcome-to-this-world gift.
Aubrey - "Apparently she wears a black leather catsuit and a golden mask."
Irene - "Any details on the mask?"
Aubrey - "I think people are usually too busy looking at the black leather catsuit.
The radiance of this beautiful scene shed a cruel light on every past horror, every insult tolerated, every unspoken retort, every gesture of rejection. Marianne was grieving, and her boundless grief made her regret every moment of cowardice in her life.
Fran? Frances Hill, you stop that right now! What the devil's got into you? Ada, you should be ashamed! Braying like a mule, you are! And you, Mattie Gokey ... would you like to tell me what could possibly be so funny?
She was destroyed many years ago, La Belle, on the cobblestones of the alley beside the opera house ...
We crossed the Avenue Bosquet against the light and then we made an arbitrary left into the Rue Jean Nicot. Joe stopped at a tabac and bought cigarettes. I would have smiled if I had been able to. The street was named after the guy who discovered nicotine.
Lourdes
Poetry is my Lourdes ~
a spiritual oasis where I come to heal
in the divine power of words.
How many of us have been first attracted to reason, first learned to think, to draw conclusions, to extract a moral from the follies of life, by some dazzling aphorism from Rochefoucauld or La Bruyere.
Do you know that charming part of our country which has been called the garden of France - that spot where, amid verdant plains watered by wide streams, one inhales the purest air of heaven?
If you have ever walked in Paris, you will see that Paris will ever walk in your memoires!
Paris, like every pretty woman, is subject to inexplicable whims of beauty and ugliness.
Yol Bolsun" (May there be a road) [Louis L'Amour}
We do not precisely enjoy liberty at the Figaro. M. de Latouche, our worthy director (ah! you should know the fellow), is always hanging over us, cutting, pruning, right or wrong, imposing upon us his whims, his aberrations, his fancies, and we have to write as he bids ...
French name, English accent, American school. Anna confused.
You are the eternal France, I love you.
To err is human. To loaf is Parisian.
Pas a pas, se va luenh.
Step by step, we make our way.
Every day I think about where I come from and I am still proud to be who I am: first, a Kabyle from La Castellane, then an Algerian from Marseille, and then a Frenchman.
Who do you serve?" Lanferelle asked.
"Sir John Cornerwailled," Hook said proudly.
Lanferelle was pleased. "Sir John! Ah, there's a man. His mother must have slept with a Frenchman.
Dame Fortune is a fickle gipsy, And always blind, and often tipsy; Sometimes for years and years together, She 'll bless you with the sunniest weather, Bestowing honour, pudding, pence, You can't imagine why or whence; Then in a moment Presto, pass! Your joys are withered like the grass
Just as I came out into the rue, an omnibus came by - pas complet, so I sprang in, without that prayer and fasting which should chasten the mind before risking it in a French omnibus.
He set out for Toulon. He arrived there, after a journey of twenty-seven days, on a cart, with a chain on his neck. At Toulon he was clothed in the red cassock. All that had constituted his life, even to his name, was effaced; he was no longer even Jean Valjean; he was number 24,601.
Blanche:
No, I have the misfortune of being an English instructor. I attempt to instill a bunch of bobby-soxers and drugstore Romeos with a reverence for Hawthorne and Whitman and Poe!
Regin slapped her knees. "Oh, my gods, look at him running like his life depended on catching us." She slid open the door. "Is this straight outta Platoon, or what? Willem!" she cried, holding out one hand. "Run, Willem!" Then she choked on her laughter.
Always choose Paris.
Ave Atque Vale
Hail and farewell
Her track, where'er the goddess roves, Glory pursue, and gen'rous shame, Th' unconquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame.
Go maire tu' I bhfad agus rath!
'Live long and prosper'.
The French woman says,
'I am a woman and a Parisienne,
and nothing foreign to me
appears altogether human.'