...and since, human speech is like a cracked tin kettle, on which we hammer out tunes to make bears dance when we long to move the stars

A los ídolos es mejor no tocarlos porque algo de la pintura dorada que los recubría se nos queda siempre entre las manos

What wretched poverty of language! To compare stars to diamonds!

One mustn't ask apple trees for oranges, France for sun, women for love, life for happiness.

When she had thus for a while struck the flint on her heart without getting a spark, incapable, moreover, of understanding what she did not experience as of believing anything that did not present itself in conventional forms she persuaded herself without difficulty that Charles's passion was nothing very exorbitant.

What baffled him was that there should be all this fuss about something so simple as love.