Françoise Sagan

“Bien sûr on a des chagrins d’amour, mais on a surtout des chagrins de soi-même. Finalement la vie n’est qu’une affaire de solitude.”

“Viņa joprojām viņu mazliet mīlēja, ja ciešāk ieskatījās. Bet viņa aizvien biežāk un biežāk novērsa skatienu.”

“It amused me to think that one can tell the truth when one is drunk and nobody will believe it.”

“Aš niekad nieko nepraradau atiduodamas. Brangiai kainuoja tik tai, ką pavagi, mielasis, atsiminkite...”

“Bet juk taip malonu paklusti savo impulsams, o paskui gailėtis...”

“Lyg laikas būtų suglebęs žvėris, kurį reikia užmušti.”

“Sėkmė pirmiausia reikalauja darbo ir drausmės, visi tai žino.”

“Понякога се пробуждах посред нощ, с пресъхнала уста, и преди още да изплувам от съня, нещо ми пошушваше да заспя пак, да се гмурна обратно в топлината, в безсъзнателността като в единствено затишие. Но вече си казвах: „Просто съм жадна, достатъчно е да се изправя, да ида до умивалника, да пия вода и пак да заспя”. Ала щом станех, щом видех в огледалото собствения си образ, смътно осветен от уличната лампа, щом хладката вода започнеше да се стича в гърлото ми, тогава отчаянието ме завладяваше и с истинско усещане за физическа болка си лягах отново, зъзнейки. Просвах се по корем, обхванала глава в ръце, и притисках тяло о кревата, сякаш любовта ми към Люк бе горещо и смъртоносно животинче, което в бунта си бих могла да премажа между кожата си и чаршафите. И битката се разразяваше. Паметта, въображението се превръщаха в жестоки врагове. Лицето на Люк, Кан, какво е било и какво би могло да бъде. И неспир отпорът на тялото ми, което бе сънено, на разума ми, който бе отвратен. Вирвах глава, съставях уравнения:”Аз съм аз, Доминик. Обичам Люк, който не ме обича. Несподелена любов, задължителна мъка. Точка.”

“I was thinking that I should be content to kiss him until the break of day. Bertrand ran out of kisses too soon; desire made them superfluous in his eyes. They were only a stage on the road to pleasure, not something inexhaustible and self-sufficient, as Luc had revealed them to me.”

“For this was the round of love: fear which leads on desire, tenderness and fury, and that brutal anguish which triumphantly follows pleasure.”

“Sólo cerrando las puertas detrás de uno se abren ventanas hacia el porvenir.”

“Je dois vraiment en avoir assez, pensait-il, étonné lui-même par ses propres mots; quand je commence à m'occuper du vocabulaire d'une femme, c'est que la fin est proche." (p.98)”

“The one thing I regret is that I will never have time to read all the books I want to read.”

“Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.”

“A iubi pe cineva inseamna a iubi in egala masura fericirea sa.”

“Timpul acordat cititului este intotdeauna timp furat. Acesta este fara indoiala motivul pentru care metroul se intampla sa fie cea mai mare biblioteca a lumii.”

“Every little girl knows about love. It is only her capacity to suffer from it that increases.”

“I have loved to the point of madness; that which is called madness, that which to me, is the only sensible way to love.”

“The questions I would have liked to ask people were: ‘Are you in love? What are you reading?”

“A dress makes no sense unless it inspires men to want to take it off you”

“I shall live badly if I do not write, and I shall write badly if I do not live.”

“Money may not buy happiness, but I'd rather cry in a Jaguar than on a bus.”

“Nothing brings on jealousy like laughter.”

“He lifted me up and held me close against him, my head on his shoulder. At that moment I loved him. In the morning light he was as golden, as soft, as gentle as myself, and he would protect me.”

“I did not find him absurd. I saw he was kind, that he was on the verge of real love. I thought it would be nice for me to be in love with him, too.”

“My love of pleasure seems to be the only consistent side of my character. Is it because I have not read enough?”

“What you call types of mind are only mental ages.”

“I found myself both touched and irritated by the discovery that she was vulnerable.”

“He refused categorically all ideas of fidelity or serious commitments. He explained that they were arbitrary and sterile. From anyone else such views would have shocked me, but I knew that in his case they did not exclude tenderness and devotion - feelings which came all the more easily to him since he was determined that they should be transient.”

“For what are we looking for if not to please? I do not know if the desire to attract others comes from a superabundance of vitality, possessiveness, or the hidden, unspoken need to be reassured.”

“A Strange melancholy pervades me to which I hesitate to give the grave and beautiful name of sorrow. The idea of sorrow has always appealed to me but now I am almost ashamed of its complete egoism. I have known boredom, regret, and occasionally remorse, but never sorrow. Today it envelops me like a silken web, enervating and soft, and sets me apart from everybody else.”

“Whisky, gambling and Ferraris are better than housework.”