Sin became a luxury, a flower set in her hair, a diamond fastened on her brow. - Émile Zola

The past was but the cemetery of our illusions: one simply stubbed one's toes on the gravestones.

It was like a lightning flash of passion, swift and blinding in a leaden sky.

"Those beasts have everything and we get nothing—not even a crust if we’re starving! The only thing they’re fit for is to be taken in! Just mark my words!" </br> Hortense and Berthe nodded, as though profoundly impressed by the wisdom of their mother’s pronouncements. She had long since convinced them of the absolute inferiority of men, whose sole function in life was to marry and to pay.