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Quote by Guy de Maupassant

“She was at least seventy, tall, withered, and angular, with white hair arranged in old-fashioned sausage curls on her temples. She was dressed in the quaint and clumsy style of the wandering Englishwoman, like a person to whom clothes were a matter of complete indifference; she was eating an omelette and drinking water.”

Quote by Guy de Maupassant

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Guy de Maupassant
Guy de Maupassant

Guy de Maupassant, born on August 5, 1850 and died on July 6, 1893, was a renowned French novelist and master of the short story, often hailed as the 'King of Short Stories'. With his keen observation and unique writing style, Maupassant produced a vast array of short stories reflecting social realities and human weaknesses, which have had a profound impact on literature. more

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“Come on, Princess," he called to the bench, and Carlotta bounced up. She was wide like the rest of them, but no man could fairly say she was too wide. The most that could be said was that she did not have much further to go before she would have to start squeezing it in and strapping it up, which she clearly did not do now. She let it hang where it was, and it did very nicely by itself. As she passed among the boys they looked her over with unconcealed envy, as though they knew she had something they didn't have but were not quite sure what it was. One thing was certain, she got more exercise than they did. The next to be noticed were her braids, they hung forward over her terrain, ignoring as much as possible her contours, like two shiny black meridianal lines demarking her longitudes as far down as the equator. It was not hard to imagine oneself spending a long lifetime on that bare little island alone, with no plan or ambition, too overcome with the heat to continue on south to the pole, far less return to the continents. Nothing productive could ever be accomplished there, but there would be comfort such as few men have known, there would be torpor. The body swelled with such thoughts, the mind shrank from them, and the longing eyes traveled finally up north, to where those meridians came together at a point above a bland white area vaguely charted, with few landmarks, no doubt sparsely inhabited. There the imagination halted.”

“Kos had different tastes. He was on the lookout for that Midwestern housewife attending a conference with her husband. There was usually at least one in the hotel bar. She was always seated in a corner drinking a cocktail and pretending to read a novel while her husband was off doing manly things. Kos knew something Mason didn't—stewardesses partied in every port, but housewives were still waiting for the party.”

“Seanabhean is ea mise anois go bhfuil cos léi insan uaigh is an chos eile ar a bruach. Is mó bogradh is cruatan curtha agam díom ón gcéad lá do saolaíodh me go dtí an lá atá inniu ann. Dá mbeadh ’fhios agam go mbeadh a leath, ná a thrian, i ndán dom ní bheadh mo chroí ná m’intinn chomh haerach ná chomh misníúil is do bhí i dtosach mo shaoil.”