Book: Gobsek

Cautioning themselves from the generous impulses: in fact I often had occasion to observe that if it is to the benefactor and does not harm the blessing, for whom it is rendered, such grace is disastrous.

Young women on an inclined plane from sliding into the abyss. Enough sometimes the quadrille at the ball, romance, sung at the piano, walks in the country, to be followed by irreparable misfortune. To seek it themselves, succumbing to the reckless levity of youth! But only the woman will move the known boundaries, it invariably falls into the hands of the three furies, whose name is shame, remorse, misery, and then...

I asked him what considerations forced him to charge me huge interest rates and why he wanted to help me, his friend, did not allow myself to have this blessing completely disinterested. "My son, I got you out of gratitude, I gave you the right to assume that you don't owe me anything. And that's why we're the best friends in the world".

Is it possible to judge even a penny for the man who has a debt of three hundred thousand francs, and soul for a penny?

And is unable to deny anything to someone who hands a bag of gold?

I own the world without tiring themselves, and the world has me the slightest power.

Means-to-action blend in with his results: never fail to distinguish between the soul and carnal sense, the spirit and matter.

Where I'm going - I don't know, but I'm quitting.

Pay for all this luxury, pay for his title, pay for the happiness, for all the exclusive advantages, such as they are, but says Gobsek Countess de Resto. - To protect your good rich people invented the tribunals, judges, the guillotine, which, like moths to the fatal flame, fools rush yourself. But for you, for people who sleep on silk and silk hide, there is something else: the pangs of conscience, the gnashing of teeth, hiding a smile, the Chimera with a lion's mouth, visausa fangs in your heart.

You look at smut burning in the fireplace and see the lights of a female face, and I only see coal. You believe and I believe in nothing.

If humanity, communication between people is considered a kind of religion, Gobseck could be called an atheist.

- If you put the word out a word about all this, gentlemen, shed your or my blood.
- Amen! told him Gobsek, hiding the pistols. - To shed his blood, we must have it, my dear, and in your veins instead of blood mud.

More about me I will not say: happy is the person subject unbearably boring.

- So you sometimes do for fun?
- And you think only the poet who prints his poems?