Fontaine Quotes

Rare as is true love, true friendship is rarer.

A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.

Everyone calls himself a friend, but only a fool relies on it: nothing is commoner than the name, nothing rarer than the thing.

Sadness flies away on the wings of time.

Everyone believes very easily whatever he fears or desires.

Scarlett, always save something to fear—even as you save something to love.

Beware, so long as you live, of judging men by their outward appearance.

Nothing weighs on us so heavily as a secret.

Patience and time do more than force and rage.

Friendship is the shadow of the evening, which increases with the setting sun of life.

To hell with pleasure that's haunted by fear.

Death never takes the wise man by surprise; He is always ready to go.

On rencontre sa destinée, souvent par de chemins qu'on prend pour l'éviter. LA FONTAINE

Often we find our own destiny on the same roads that we have been avoiding.

Nothing is as dangerous as an ignorant friend; a wise enemy is to be preferred.

For the eternity that Lux Lisbon looked at him, Trip Fontaine looked back, and the love he felt at that moment, truer than all subsequent loves because it never had to survive real life, still plagued him, even now in the desert, with his looks and health wasted. 'You never know what'll set the memory off,' he told us. 'A baby's face. A bell on a cat's collar. Anything.' They didn't exchange a single word. But in the weeks that followed, Trip spent his days wandering the halls, hoping for Lux to appear, the most naked person with clothes on he had ever seen.

Rien ne sert de courir il faut partir à point

Never sell the bear's skin before one has killed the beast.

Je ressemble à un personnage de Bretécher: une fille assise sur un banc avec une pancarte autour du cou : "je veux de l'amour" et des larmes qui jaillissent comme deux fontaines de chaque côté des yeux. Je m'y vois.

Apprenez que tout flatteur Vit aux dépens de celui qui l'écoute : Cette leçon vaut bien un fromage, sans doute. Flatterers thrive on fools' credulity. The lesson's worth a cheese, don't you agree?

Avec l'amour maternel, la vie vous fait, à l'aube, une promesse qu'elle ne tient jamais. Chaque fois qu'une femme vous prend dans ses bras et vous serre sur son coeur, ce ne sont plus que des condoléances. On revient toujours gueuler sur la tombe de sa mère comme un chien abandonné. Jamais plus, jamais plus, jamais plus. Des bras adorables se referment autour de votre cou et des lèvres très douces vous parlent d'amour, mais vous êtes au courant. Vous êtes passé à la source très tôt et vous avez tout bu. Lorsque la soif vous reprend, vous avez beau vous jeter de tous côtés, il n'y a plus de puits, il n'y a que des mirages. Vous avez fait, dès la première lueur de l'aube, une étude très serrée de l'amour et vous avez sur vous de la documentation. Je ne dis pas qu'il faille empêcher les mères d'aimer leurs petits. Je dis simplement qu'il vaut mieux que les mères aient encore quelqu'un d'autre à aimer. Si ma mère avait eu un amant, je n'aurais pas passé ma vie à mourir de soif auprès de chaque fontaine. Malheureusement pour moi, je me connais en vrais diamants.

Whatever you do, do something else.

Every newspaper editor owes tribute to the devil.

There's nothing sweeter than a real friend: Not only is he prompt to lend— An angler delicate, he fishes The very deepest of your wishes, And spares your modesty the task His friendly aid to ask. A dream, a shadow, wakes his fear, When pointing at the object dear.

Caretaking is never about the other person. It's about wanting to feel needed because you're afraid you're not wanted.

The best laid plot can injure its maker, and often a man's perfidy will rebound on himself.

You're Ma's own blood son, but did she take on that time Tony Fontaine shot you in the leg? No, she just sent for old Doc Fontaine to dress it and asked the doctor what ailed Tony's aim. Said she guessed the licker was spoiling his marksmanship.

People don’t read as much anymore. That’s why they’re so stupid.

And if we folks have a motto, it’s this: ‘Don’t holler — smile and bide your time.’ We’ve survived a passel of things that way, smiling and biding our time, and we’ve gotten to be experts at surviving.

In everything one must consider the end.

Beware, so long as you live, or judging men by their outwards appearance.

Todos los cerebros del mundo son impotentes contra cualquier estupidez que esté de moda.

I don't believe that Nature's powers Have tied her hands or pinioned ours, By marking on the heavenly vault Our fate without mistake or fault. That fate depends on conjunctions Of places, persons, times, and tracks, And not on the functions Of more or less of quacks.

A menudo encontramos nuestro destino por los caminos que tomamos para evitarlo.

Habit,to which all of us are more or less slaves.

A foolish friend may cause more woe Than could, indeed, the wisest foe.

When she smiled, her mouth showed too many teeth, but at night Trip Fontaine dreamed of being bitten by each one.

Voyager, c'est, de même qu'étudier, faire un long bail avec la jeunesse. Il n'existe pas, je crois, de plus efficace fontaine de jouvence que ces deux choses: voyage et activité intellectuelle.

God doesn't create suffering Claire, we do. We make the world and then we break it.

We carve our destinies blindfolded, with sharp knives.

Travel empties out everything you’ve into the box called your life, all the things you accumulate to tell you who you are

Perhaps you are making a cat's paw of me with Phillotson all this time. Upon my word it almost seems so--to see you sitting up there so prim.

Mia: I was sixteen when I first realized my mom was more concerned about my appearance than I was… I’ll be talking to my mom and realize she hasn’t heard a word because she’s studying my face to see if the foundation I’m using is a good match for my skin tone.

A woman’s relationship with herself is mirrored everywhere in her life, but no place more than with her daughter.

Patience and time do more than strength or passion.

[Samantha Dunn] wrote that when God wants your attention, first He throws feathers. After that, He starts throwing bricks.

Quand l'abſurde eſt outré, on lui fait trop d'honneur De vouloir par raiſon, combattre ſon erreur: Enchérir eſt plus court, ſans s'échauffer la bile.

Well, Ms. Fontaine, you look damn good for a dead woman." Her response was to narrow her eyes, arch a brow. "If that's some sort of cop humor, I'm afraid you'll have to translate.

Mayor Fontaine is awful and terrifying. But like the rest of us, he's human too.

If ever there was a boy in love, sweet pea, it's Joe Fontaine.

The rules of scientific investigation always require us, when we enter the domains of conjecture, to adopt that hypothesis by which the greatest number of known facts and phenomena may be reconciled.

Once your baby arrives, the world is no more the same than you are. Because from our very bodies we add to the collective human destiny. Our deepest urge is always toward life, to wholeness and well being.

Angela Carter...refused to join in rejecting or denouncing fairy tales, but instead embraced the whole stigmatized genre, its stock characters and well-known plots, and with wonderful verve and invention, perverse grace and wicked fun, soaked them in a new fiery liquor that brought them leaping back to life. From her childhood, through her English degree at the University of Bristol where she specialised in Medieval Literature, and her experiences as a young woman on the folk-music circuit in the West Country, Angela Carter was steeped in English and Celtic faerie, in romances of chivalry and the grail, Chaucerian storytelling and Spenserian allegory, and she was to become fairy tale’s rescuer, the form’s own knight errant, who seized hold of it in its moribund state and plunged it into the fontaine de jouvence itself. (from "Chamber of Secrets: The Sorcery of Angela Carter")

Throughout the act, headlights came on across the field, sweeping over them, lighting up the goal-post. Lux said, in the middle, "I always screw things up. I always do" and began to sob. Trip Fontaine told us a little more. We asked him if he put her in the cab but he said no. "I walked home that night. I didn;t care how she got home. I just took off." Then: "It's weird. I mean, I liked her I really liked her. I just got sick of her right then.

Many of them were familiar from childhood with the fables of La Fontaine. Or they had read Voltaire or Racine or Molière in English translations. But that was about the sum of any familiarity they had with French literature. And none, of course, could have known in advance that the 1830s and ’40s in Paris were to mark the beginning of the great era of Victor Hugo, Balzac, George Sand, and Baudelaire, not to say anything of Delacroix in painting or Chopin and Liszt in music.

Не все погибли от нее, но пострадали все. ("Животные, заболевшие чумой")

There isn’t a woman I know who hasn’t said they wished they’d listened to their mother… especially where the three Big Ms of women’s lives are concerned: mothering, money, and men.

With Prayer, Love and Patience, it makes your journey so much easier in life.

Maybe that’s what coffee shops sold. The idea that everything was okay, at least here, in this moment.

I wasn’t among the fortunate to have seen sexy Brigitte Bardot sunbathing topless along Spain’s magnificent Costa del Sol way back when, but I could not imagine it being more breathtakingly impactful on a man than was my first glimpse of Alisha Fontaine.

It’s a dangerous thing, to divide yourself, to break off bits of yourself until there’s no solid core. We are, after all, just the sum of our total experiences, each one lying beneath us like a brick in the foundation of a house. To be selective, to block out portions, is to destabilize the very ground on which you stand.

Evolution of mind was altogether another matter and belonged to another science, but whether one traced descent from the shark or the wolf was immaterial even in morals. This matter had been discussed for ages without scientific result. La Fontaine and other fabulists maintained that the wolf, even in morals, stood higher than man; and in view of the late civil war, Adams had doubts of his own on the facts of moral evolution:

Sometimes, we have to give birth to our children twice....Once your child becomes the "garbage" other parents are afraid of, you never look at any teen, or yourself, the same again. All you see is the child they once were.

Ea nu-i va cunoaște niciodată pe frații Fontaine. Ea nu va auzi niciodată de această cină, în drum spre râu. Ea nu se va întoarce niciodată acasă dimineața, sau marți, sau peste trei luni. Ea n-o să se mai întoarcă nicidoată. S-a dus, și lumea umblă mai departe fără ea... Pentru un minut, nu mai pot respira sau gândi.

They didn't exchange a single word. But in the weeks that followed, Trip spent his days wandering the halls, hoping for Lux to appear, the most naked person with clothes on he had ever seen. Even in sensible school shoes, she shuffled as though barefoot, and the baggy apparel Mrs. Lisbon bought for her only increased her appeal, as though after undressing she had put on whatever was handy. In corduroys her thighs rubbed together, buzzing, and there was always at least one untidy marvel to unravel him: an untucked shirttail, a sock with a hole, a ripped seam showing underarm hair. She carted her books from class to class but never opened them. Her pens and pencils were as temporary as Cinderella's broom. When she smiled, her mouth showed too many teeth, but at night Trip Fontaine dreamed of being bitten by each one.

We tell our daughters we don’t trust them in a thousand ways. We don’t consciously mean to, but we steal their confidence in their own strength by stealing their pain. And their confidence in our strength by saying we aren’t strong enough to see them struggle.

Ich gönnte keinem andern," fuhr er fort zu lügen, "Ein solch olympisch Schlemmerglück, Nur dir, mein liebster Freund, allein. Geniesse dies mit vollen Zügen.

Tout flatteur vit aux dépens de celui qui l’écoute.

Mes hanches ton bassin éclipsait un rivage;je m'étendais pour ne plus revenir j'ai hurlé ma famine arrachée à toi

Claire: Once your baby arrives, the world is no more the same than you are. Because from our very bodies we add to the collective human destiny.

My stories are a window into my heart....they emmulate the same happiness, pain, fear, sorrow that I was feeling when the storie was conceived...

This gentleman, with knowing air, Survey'd

Rien n'est si dangereux qu'un ignorant ami; Mieux vaudrait un sage ennemi.

S'il fallait condamner Tous les ingrats qui sont au monde, A qui pourrait-on pardonner?

trincasse, a tagarela Foi valer-se

vigoroso

Raça por mim tão amada, Desta feita morrerás!» Júpiter daí a nada Fez-se menos ferrabrás.

No está cubierto de flores el camino a la gloria

The only way to do it is to do it. There is no trick.

His face is an open invitation to bed.

Je voudrais lui dire que je sais. Pourquoi je me tais. Le silence. Je voudrais écrire le silence.

She was an open book. She had nothing to hide. She had an air about her. An air of conviction. She had lived and had no regrets. She was compulsively unapologetic about the choices that she had made.

Claire: One of the hallmarks of a mother-daughter relationship is what I call the Zero to Sixty Factor. We can get instantly irritated at each other and just as instantly move on… Men don’t get this. Paul will say, “Girls, stop fussing,” and we’ll immediately turn and say in unison, “We’re not arguing.

Il ouvre un large bec, laisse tomber sa proie. Le Renard s'en saisit, et dit : "Mon bon Monsieur, Apprenez que tout flatteur Vit aux dépens de celui qui l'écoute : Cette leçon vaut bien un fromage, sans doute.

Le fabricateur souverain nous créa besaciers tous de même manière, tant ceux du temps passé que du temps d’aujourd’hui : Il fit pour nos défauts la poche de derrière, Et celle de devant pour les défauts d’autrui.

True love comes in quietly, without banners or flashing lights. She is your sanity in a world full of madness. True love is not how grand you are or how simple you are, but it's who you are when you're with her and she loves you not in spite of it, but because of it. She is the one who stands with you, when the rest of the world falls down.

She recognizes the cramped handwriting, the internecine, slashing script. She has studied it under the gaze of the Institute Librarian, in locked rooms -- she even, in the early, giddy days of her conversion, practiced Fulton's handwriting for hours. Knows the ink. . . . Here it is now, on the familiar notebook paper Fulton preferred. She tracked down the manufacturer once; they have a plant across the river where they still turn out the Fontaine line.

Deslauriers, qui couchait dans le cabinet au bois, près de la fontaine, poussait un long bâillement. Frédéric s'asseyait au pied de son lit. D'abord il parlait du dîner, puis il racontait mille détails insignifiants, où il voyait des marques de mépris ou d'affection. Une fois, par exemple, elle avait refusé son bras, pour prendre celui de Dittmer, et Frédéric se désolait. - Ah ! quelle bêtise! Ou bien elle l'avait appelé son "ami". - Vas-y gaiement, alors! - Mais je n'ose pas, disait Frédéric. - Eh bien, n'y pense plus. Bonsoir.

Okay; they’ve got to be kids—but why girls?” Fontaine asked. “People are even more protective about little girls.” Tenenbaum winced and turned back to the microscope, muttering, “For some reason girls take sea-slug implant better than boys.” Fontaine wondered what little boy they’d experimented on to determine that and what had become of him. But he didn’t really care. He didn’t. And in fact—there was one place that could supply children for all sorts of things. “So—just girls, eh? That’s okay; that’ll just be fewer bunks in the orphanage.

These are the kinds of regrets all women have, mistakes and missteps, paths not chosen, opportunities gone. Youth gone. Forever. And until I honestly acknowledge how this regret feels, acknowledge that I’m not okay with how some of my life went, it’s like having a fake past, and a fake present, which is surely a prescription for a fake future.

I could see where I’d mistaken drama and conflict for life, which meant years of living reactively instead of generatively, a life I let be determined by circumstances and the choices of others. We like to think life happens to us, but pretty much everything in your life is there because you wanted it, even if unconsciously. Results, I have learned, don’t lie.

My relationship with God has evolved as well. I no longer rail or beg or sass back. I was standing on a bluff over the ocean the other day and suddenly laughed out loud as I realized what an illusion that was, what an impossibility. That would assume a relationship between a “me” and “Other,” a separation. There is no otherness; to be separate from God is to be separate from myself, from life itself. What I’ve been looking for, I’m looking with.

Nor did I grasp the capacity of love's absence to destroy, that my lack of love for myself made my own life unbearable. You take someone whose life experiences have taught them they're worthless, string them out on drugs, and you have one miserable person. How could I have given what I didn't have? It's hard to value another life when you view your own as dispensable, hard to understand how you can have so great an effect on someone else when you don't think you matter.

No", sanoi Mummo katsoen häntä tutkivasti kasvoihin, "mikä Tarassa on hullusti? Mitä sinä salailet?" Scarlett katsoi teräviin vanhoihin silmiin ja näki, että hän voisi kertoa totuuden kyynelittä. Ei kukaan voinut itkeä Fointainen Mummon seurassa ilman hänen nimenomaista lupaansa. "Äiti on kuollut", sanoi Scarlett soinnuttomasti. Hänen käsivarrellaan olevan käden ote tiukkeni, kunnes se nipisti, ja keltaisten silmien ryppyiset luomet värähtivät. "Jenkitkö hänet tappoivat?" "Hän kuoli lavantautiin. Kuoli - päivää ennenkuin minä tulin kotiin." "Älä ajattele sitä", sanoi Mummo ankarasti, ja Scarlett näki hänen nielaisevan. "Entä isäsi?" "Isä - isä ei ole entisellään." "Mitä tarkoita? Anna kuulua. Onko hän sairas?" "Järkytys - hän on niin kummallinen - hän ei ole -" "Älä käytä minulle puhuessasi sellaisia sanontoja kuin että hän ei ole entisellään. Tarkoitatko, että hän on mennyt sekaisin päästään?" Oli helpottavaa kuulla totuus noin peittelemättömänä. Miten kiltti Mummo Fontaine olikaan, kun ei osoittanut sellaista myötätuntoa, joka olisi pannut itkemään.

LA VENUS CALLIPYGA Hubo en la Grecia dos siracusanas, Que tenían un trasero portentoso; Y, por saber la cual de las hermanas Lo tenía más gentil, duro y carnoso, Desnudas se mostraron a un perito Que, después de palpar con dulce apremio, Ofreció a la mayor su mano, en premio. Tomó su hermano el no menos bonito De la menor; alegres se casaron, Y, tras más de una grata peripecia, En honor de las dos un templo alzaron, Con el nombre de: «Venus, nalga recia.» No sé qué intención hubiera sido, Mas fuera aqueste el templo de la Grecia Al que más devoción habría tenido.

I wonder how much of a person is simply fabricated by others,” she said. “And think about this: None of us see the same person in the exact same way. We bring ourselves into the equation. So an individual is never really an individual.” “This might be a little too deep for a hangover. Are you saying we’re not only a product of our environment; we’re also informed by accurate and inaccurate observations by others? That makes my head hurt even more.” “One thing I know, before my capture I saw myself through everybody else’s eyes, if that makes any sense. Every single person I engaged with throughout the day. I read their reaction to me and saw what they saw, accurate or inaccurate. That hasn’t happened since my escape. I don’t know if this new me is normal or abnormal, but that skewed reflection no longer exists. It should feel good, but it’s like something is gone.” You become the person he sees.

La Cigale, ayant chanté Tout l'Été, Se trouva fort dépourvue Quand la bise fut venue. Pas un seul petit morceau De mouche ou de vermisseau. Elle alla crier famine Chez la Fourmi sa voisine, La priant de lui prêter Quelque grain pour subsister Jusqu'à la saison nouvelle. Je vous paierai, lui dit-elle, Avant l'Oût, foi d'animal, Intérêt et principal. La Fourmi n'est pas prêteuse ; C'est là son moindre défaut. « Que faisiez-vous au temps chaud ? Dit-elle à cette emprunteuse. - Nuit et jour à tout venant Je chantais, ne vous déplaise. - Vous chantiez ? j'en suis fort aise. Eh bien ! dansez maintenant. »

In her book claiming that allegations of ritualistic abuse are mostly confabulations, La Fontaine’s (1998) comparison of social workers to ‘nazis’ shows the depth of feeling evident amongst many sceptics. However, this raises an important question: Why did academics and journalists feel so strongly about allegations of ritualistic abuse, to the point of pervasively misrepresenting the available evidence and treating women disclosing ritualistic abuse, and those workers who support them, with barely concealed contempt? It is of course true that there are fringe practitioners in the field of organised abuse, just as there are fringe practitioners in many other health-related fields. However, the contrast between the measured tone of the majority of therapists and social workers writing on ritualistic abuse, and the over-blown sensationalism of their critics, could not be starker. Indeed, Scott (2001) notes with irony that the writings of those who claimed that ‘satanic ritual abuse’ is a ‘moral panic’ had many of the features of a moral panic: scapegoating therapists, social workers and sexual abuse victims whilst warning of an impending social catastrophe brought on by an epidemic of false allegations of sexual abuse. It is perhaps unsurprising that social movements for people accused of sexual abuse would engage in such hyperbole, but why did this rhetoric find so many champions in academia and the media?

Il Consiglio dei Topi Un Gatto, che diceano il Mangialardo, facea dei Topi un così gran macello, e tanti nell’avello n’avea sospinti e sbigottiti tanti, che i pochi vivi ancora non osavano il muso cacciar fuora. Quatti nei buchi sen morian di fame, tanta paura avean di quel, non gatto, ma carnefice infame. Un giorno tuttavia, colto il momento che il gatto andò a far visita all’amante e stette in alto tutta la giornata, si radunano i Topi a parlamento. Il presidente ch’era una persona di gran senno, propose, e parve bello a tutti il suo consiglio, che si attaccasse al gatto un campanello, un campanel che suona e dia l’avviso ai topi di fuggire, quando il nemico accenna di venire. - Bravo, bene, benissimo! – Ciascuno approva la mozione. Ma quando si trattò di sceglier quello che attaccare doveva il campanello, non si trovò nessuno. O fossi matto… io no… fossi corbello… Vedendo ch’era chiacchiera perduta, il presidente leva la seduta. Ho veduto qualche altro parlamento, (non di topi) e qualche altra commissione che venne alla precisa conclusione. A ciarlar son bravi in cento, ma diverso è ben l’affare quando trattasi di fare.

- Child is abused, perpetrator threatens to hurt mother. Child feels protective of mother. - Struggle to escape perp reinforces feelings of mutual protection. It's Mom and I against the world. - Something necessary at the time later creates "enmeshment." Child doesn't see her actions as separate from mother. Even during normal adolescent individuation. But-- - Normal individuation doesn't happen in abuse survivors. They don't feel normal, so they-- - Act out in unhealthy or self-destructive ways, which creates-- - Fear and pain for mother, which creates-- - Guilt for child who still feels responsible for mother's emotional health. - Child seeks release from the guilt and from not feeling normal, which leads to-- - Escape to the world of other not normal people, where mother can't see her child self-destruct, which leads to-- "The bad news.