George Sand
George Sand
Amantine-Lucile-Aurore Dupin, best known by her pseudonym George Sand, was a French novelist and memoirist. She is equally well known for her much publicized romantic affairs with a number of artists, including Polish-French composer and pianist Frédéric Chopin and the writer Alfred de Musset...
NationalityFrench
ProfessionMemoirist
Date of Birth1 July 1804
CityParis, France
CountryFrance
work
Our work can never be better than we are ourselves.
book results publication
The publication of a book only brings very paltry results to its author.
artist fishing goal
... everyone's free to embark on either a great clipper or a little fishing boat. An artist is an explorer who oughtn't to shrink from anything: it doesn't matter whether he goes to the left or the right -- his goal sanctifies all.
life intellectual coins
Faith is an excitement and an enthusiasm: it is a condition of intellectual magnificence to which we must cling as to a treasure, and not squander on our way through life in the small coin of empty words, or in exact and priggish argument.
flower oblivion graves
Oblivion is the flower that grows best on graves.
obstacles made evident
To be made evident, truth must be sought for; for of itself it is slow to appear, and between ourselves and God the obstacles are so many!
flower love-is feet
... love is too delicate a flower to rise again when one has trampled it under foot.
simplicity silence one-love
Simplicity, a delicate silence about oneself, increases their worth and makes one love those whom one admires.
progress treasure language
... the progress of the language has caused us to lose many old treasures. It is thus with all progress, and one must make the best of it.
childhood triumph incomparable
... what is there over which the incomparable beauty of childhood would not triumph?
feelings losing blame
No human being can control love, and no one is to blame either for feeling it or for losing it. What alone degrades a woman is falsehood.
self intellectual able
living for oneself is a bad thing. The keenest intellectual pleasure comes from being able to return to the self after being absent from it for a spell. But living all the time inside the self, that most tyrannical, demanding and capricious of companions - no, one shouldn't do it.
home men doors
It seems to me that the earth belongs to God who made it and entrusted it to men as a perpetual home. But it cannot have been part of His plan that some men should be ill with overfeeding and that others should die of starvation. No matter what anyone can say they cannot prevent me from feeling sad and angry when I see a beggar crying at a rich man's door.
friends ignored neglected
It is always the best friends who are neglected and ignored.