Au Revoir Paris Quotes

I had to leave Paris the next morning. As always I would wonder why and start counting the days before I could go back. And then lose count and be lost again in the life that, by some strange twist of fate, I lived somewhere else. Au revoir Paris. Bonjour tristesse.

It never mattered how low I felt, someone at the ALP always managed to scoop me up and put me on an even keel. The Library was more than bricks and books; its mortar was people who cared. I’d spent time in other libraries, with their hard wooden chairs and their polite “Bonjour, Mademoiselle. Au revoir, Mademoiselle.” There was nothing wrong with these bibliothèques, they simply lacked the camaraderie of real community. The Library felt like home.

Félix dévala l'escalier comme un fou, entra dans toutes les pièces et découvrit Marina à la cuisine. –Où est mademoiselle Otilia ? lui demanda-t-il. –Comment, vous ne savez pas ? Elle est partie au petit matin, en voiture, avec ses valises et tout, Dieu sait où. Félix resta longtemps dans un état de prostration totale. Puis, se remettant un peu, il sentit le besoin de courir, erra à travers les rues, poussa jusqu'à la Chaussée [Kisseleff], et se décida finalement à aller chez Pascalopol. Il y appris que celui-ci était parti pour Paris avec « mademoiselle ». Deux semaines plus tard, il recevait une carte postale illustrée où il lut ces lignes : « Celui qui a pu faire preuve d'une telle maîtrise de soi est également capable de vaincre un amour qui n'est pas fait pour son grand avenir. Otilia» Félix ne devait plus jamais revoir Otilia. (extrait du dernier chapitre)

Simon aurait détesté revoir Paris à 18 h 07. On a ses heures noires. Simon c’était six heures du soir.

Oliver Marley supposed there were more dignified ways to end his life. A lifelong victim to the twin sins of an infertile imagination and pragmatism, the thought of travel simply never crossed his mind.   Had it occurred to him, Oliver could have jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge, into the abyss of the Grand Canyon or said au revoir off the Eiffel Tower. But truth be told, Oliver never was much of a traveler. Even locally there were certainly higher quality casinos to choose from, taller parking garages from which to leap. Instead he found himself perched atop the nearest appropriately-sized structure to his home, that being the parking garage of the Circus Time Hotel & Casino. His view not of Alcatraz Island and the rough waters of the San Francisco Bay, nor the breathtaking vistas of the Arizona desert, or the romanticism of the Paris skyline for that matter. Rather he found himself bathed in a noxious blend of pink and green neon, staring into a pair of giant blinking pastel eyes belonging to the eighty-foot clown staring down at him like a frilly guardian angel. Then again, when your primary objective is to pancake yourself on a public sidewalk, perhaps you’re not in the best position to nitpick over the intricacies of what does and does not constitute bad taste. Oliver would just have to live with the clown, at least for another minute or two.