The whole dream of democracy is to raise the proletariat to the level of stupidity attained by the bourgeoisie. - Gustave Flaubert

Love, to her, was something hat comes suddenly, like a blinding flash of lightening - a heaven-sent storm hurled into life, uprooting it, sweeping every will before it like a leaf, engulfing all feelings.

He loved the extensive vaults where you could hear the night birds and the sea breeze; he loved the craggy ruins bound together by ivy, those dark halls, and any appearance of death and destruction. Having fallen so far from so high a position, he loved anything that had also fallen from a great height

She was as sated with him as he was tired of her. Emma had rediscovered in adultery all the banality of marriage.