The day after that wedding night I found that a distance of a thousand miles, abyss and discovery and irremediable metamorphosis, separated me from the day before.— Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
The most undeniable Sidonie Gabrielle Colette quotes that are proven to give you inner joy
It is not a bad thing that children should occasionally, and politely, put parents in their place.
When she raises her eyelids it's as if she were taking off all her clothes.
- and how time flies! What, has it already been twenty years, already forty years that we are together? Why, how terrible! We haven't yet said all we wanted to say to each other... May we have a little respite, or else may we be allowed to begin all over again!
Be happy. It's one way of being wise.
Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet.
You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.
Time spent with a cat is never wasted.
I believe there are more urgent and honorable occupations than the incomparable waste of time we call suffering.
I love my past, I love my present. I am not ashamed of what I have had, and I am not sad because I no longer have it.
What a wonderful life I've had! I only wish I'd realized it sooner.
You must not pity me because my sixtieth year finds me still astonished.
To be astonished is one of the surest ways of not growing old too quickly.
Smokers, male and female, inject and excuse idleness in their lives every time they light a cigarette.
Never touch a butterfly's wing with your finger.
A kindly gesture bestowed by us on an animal arouses prodigies of understanding and gratitude.
There are connoisseurs of blue just as there are connoisseurs of wine.
The woman who thinks she is intelligent demands equal rights with men. A woman who is intelligent does not.
It takes time for the absent to assume their true shape in our thoughts.
Sincerity is not a spontaneous flower nor is modesty either.
There are no ordinary cats.
Look for a long time at what pleases you, and a longer time at what pains you.
In its early stages, insomnia is almost an oasis in which those who have to think or suffer darkly take refuge.
On this narrow planet, we have only the choice between two unknown worlds.
One of them tempts us --ah! what a dream, to live in that! --the other stifles us at the first breath.
One keeps forgetting old age up to the very brink of the grave.
The lovesick, the betrayed, and the jealous all smell alike.
beautiful December grapes, blue as plums, every grape a little skinful of sweet, tasteless water
Writing only leads to more writing.
I am indebted to the cat for a particular kind of honorable deceit, for a greater control over myself, for a characteristic aversion to brutal sounds, and for the need to keep silent for long periods of time.
It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer... and everything collapses.
Total absence of humor renders life impossible.
I am going away with him to an unknown country where I shall have no past and no name, and where I shall be born again with a new face and an untried heart.
To a poet, silence is an acceptable response, even a flattering one.
Perhaps the only misplaced curiosity is that which persists in trying to find out here, on this side of death, what lies beyond the grave.
I've entered the world of wine without any professional training, but a definite appetite for good bottles.
Jealousy is not at all low, but it catches us humbled and bowed down, at first sight.
There is no need to waste pity on young girls who are having their moments of disillusionment, for in another moment they will recover their illusion.
To write is to pour one’s innermost self passionately upon the tempting paper, at such frantic speed that sometimes one’s hand struggles and rebels, overdriven by the impatient god which guides it - and to find, next day, in place of the golden bough that bloomed miraculously in that dazzling hour, a withered bramble and a stunted flower.
If he's getting married, he's not longer interesting.
A happy childhood is poor preparation for human contacts.
In the matter of furnishing, I find a certain absence of ugliness far worse than ugliness.
The faults of husbands are often caused by the excess virtues of their wives.
You do not notice changes in what is always before you.
My true friends have always given me that supreme proof of devotion, a spontaneous aversion for the man I loved.
Is suffering so very serious? ...I'm referring to the kind of suffering a man inflicts on a woman or a woman on a man. It's extremely painful... hardly bearable. But I very much fear that this sort of pain... is no more worthy of respect than old age or illness.
No temptation can ever be measured by the value of its object.
The true traveler is he who goes on foot, and even then, he sits down a lot of the time.
At sixty-three years of age, less a quarter, one still has plans.
At the top of the iron staircase leading to the stage, the good, dry, dusty warmth wraps me round like a comfortable dirty cloak.
As for an authentic villain, the real thing, the absolute, the artist, one rarely meets him even once in a lifetime. The ordinary bad hat is always in part a decent fellow.
And what a delight it is to make friends with someone you have despised.