93 quotes found
“To breath the air of Paris preserves the soul.”
“Paris that eternal monstrous marvel … the city of a hundred-thousand novels … a living creature, the great courtesan whose face and heart and mind-boggling morals they know: “They” are the lovers o...”
“Paris rubbed his forehead against his, running his hands through Roan‘s hair, and said, 'How about we come back here and exchange notes once we‘re done with the interviews? Take a long lunch.''Only...”
“Paris came down the stairs looking incredible. He‘d gone with the simple classic look of the tight white T-shirt, the low-slung jeans that showed off a glimpse of his flat belly, and a black leathe...”
“Here, in a few words, you’ve said all you need to say. People stand by each other, but they don’t talk. It’s remarkable. I’ve investigated the extraordinary history of these walls. I think I’m the ...”
“In response to a tactless question he once said to me, ‘What do you expect? This lousy neighbourhood gave me the come-on. I couldn’t resist.”
“When Victor Hugo was buried, you couldn’t find a whore in all of Paris. They were too busy paying their respects. That was a man – and he still has a show on in the West End.”
“Crack, crack—crack, crack—crack, crack—so this is Paris! quoth I (continuing in the same mood)—and this is Paris!—humph!—Paris! cried I, repeating the name the third time— The first, the finest, th...”
“It's pronounced wee but spelled O-U-I. It's all you'll want to say when you're sitting at one of the thousands of little cafes that line the streets and you're looking at a menu full of foods you j...”
“In Paris, everything's for sale: wise virgins, foolish virgins, truth and lies, tears and smiles.”
“To err his human, to stroll is Parisian.”
“In Paris, you couldn’t really turn around without seeing the result of lovers’ bad decisions. An artist given to sexual excess was almost a cliché, but no one seemed to mind. As long as you were ma...”
“Night came on, the lamps were lighted, the tables near him found occupants, and Paris began to wear that peculiar evening look of hers which seems to say, in the flare of windows and theatre-doors,...”
