Anatole France
Anatole France
Anatole Francewas a French poet, journalist, and novelist. He was born in Paris, and died in Saint-Cyr-sur-Loire. He was a successful novelist, with several best-sellers. Ironic and skeptical, he was considered in his day the ideal French man of letters. He was a member of the Académie française, and won the 1921 Nobel Prize in Literature "in recognition of his brilliant literary achievements, characterized as they are by a nobility of style, a profound human sympathy, grace, and a true...
NationalityFrench
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth16 April 1844
CountryFrance
The mania of thinking renders one unfit for every activity.
Distrust even Mathematics; albeit so sublime and highly perfected, we have here a machine of such delicacy it can only work in vacuo, and one grain of sand in the wheels is enough to put everything out of gear. One shudders to think to what disaster such a grain of sand may bring a Mathematical brain. Remember Pascal.
There are very honest people who do not think that they have had a bargain unless they have cheated a merchant.
You think you are dying for your country; you die for the industrialists.
Man is a rational animal. He can think up a reason for anything he wants to believe.
It is human nature to think wisely and act in an absurd fashion.
The absurdity of a religious practice may be clearly demonstrated without lessening the numbers of people who indulge in it
Make love now, by night and by day, in winter and in summer... You are in the world for that and the rest of life is nothing but vanity, illusion, waste. There is only one science, love, only one riches, love, only one policy, love. To make love is all the law, and the prophets.
To accomplish great things, we must dream as well as act.
To die for an idea is to set a rather high price on conjecture.
We do not know what to do with this short life, yet we want another which will be eternal.
The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself a fool.
The average man does not know what to do with his life, yet wants another one which will last forever
It is well for the heart to be naive and for the mind not to be