The pride of abnegation had vanished, and she was willing that those she loved should be happy through other instrumentality than her own. - Émile Zola

Every wave is a watersprite who swims in the current, each current is a path which snakes towards my palace, and my palace is fluidly built at the bottom of the lake, in the triangle of earth, fire and water.

Au fond une pensée unique les rongeait: ils s’irritaient contre leur crime, ils se désespéraient d’avoir à jamais troublé leur vie.

Jean-Louis had never had a day's illness in his life. He was tall and as gnarled as an oak. The sun had baked his skin until it had the colour and toughness and stillness of a tree. With advancing years, he had lost his tongue. He now never spoke, considering such an activity pointless.