Paris flared — Paris, which the divine sun had sown with light, and where in glory waved the great future harvest of Truth and of Justice. - Émile Zola

Then Nana started on la Faloise at once. He had for some time been longing for the honour of being ruined by her in order to put the finishing stroke on his smartness.

You don't understand this language, old fellow: otherwise you'd know that action contains its own reward. To act, to create, to fight against facts, to overcome them or be overcome by them—the whole of human health and happiness is made up of that!

Her anger was rekindled. </br> "You see, I keep it to myself, but, oh! it’s more than I can stand. Don’t say anything, sir; don’t say anything, or I’ll explode!" </br> He said nothing, and she exploded all the same.