Madame Bovary is myself.
quote by Gustave Flaubert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Tenth Commandment Explained
Madame Bovary could cheerfully have carried
on adultering if she had not run out
of money, which is something you can’t do without
when having an affair with someone who is married.
Money helps support adultery, that’s why
the people coveting their neighbor’s spouse
will also covet things they own, their house
a means to pay for the adultery they play.
Inspired by Margaret Atwood, who told Deborah Solomon in an interview in the NYT Magazine, September 28,2008 that Madam Bovary that it was overspending that caused Madam Bovary’s adultery to come to a premature end:
As one of Canada’s most esteemed novelists and poets, you are about to deliver a series of public lectures on a seemingly nonliterary subject, “Payback: Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth, ” which is also the title of your latest book. Your timing is perfect. Well, I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s not my fault. I didn’t make those banks collapse.
I thought maybe you made the banks fail in order to help your book sales. I didn’t even consider it. When I came up with the idea two or three years ago and planned out the lectures, this was not on the horizon. Everybody was happily buying subprime-mortgage vehicles.
So what led you to take up the subject of debt? Long ago, I was a graduate student in Victorian literature. When you think of the 19th-century novel, you think romance — you think Heathcliff, Cathy, Madame Bovary, etc. But the underpinning structure of those novels is money, and Madame Bovary could have cheerfully gone on committing adultery for a long time if she hadn’t overspent.
Are you saying we should view her as a pioneer of deficit spending? You can examine the whole 19th century from the point of view of who would have maxed out their credit cards. Emma Bovary would have maxed hers out. No question. Mr. Scrooge would not have. He would have snipped his up.
9/29/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Human speech is a cracked cauldron on which we knock out tunes for dancing bears, when we wish to conjure pity from the stars.
Gustave Flaubert in Madame Bovary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The human language is like a cracked kettle on which we beat out a tune for a dancing bear, when we hope with our music to move the stars.
Gustave Flaubert in Madame Bovary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Madame Bovary
Mia Wasikowska, Ezra Miller, Laura Carmichael, Paul Giamatti, Rhys Ifans, Logan Marshall-Green, Henry Lloyd-Hughes, Richard Cordery, Luke Tittensor, Olivier Gourmet, Morfydd Clark
from Madame Bovary (2014)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Exaggerated turns of speech conceal mediocre affections: as if the fulness of the soul might not sometimes overflow in the emptiest of metaphors, since no one, ever, can give the exact measurements of his needs, nor of his conceptions, nor of his sufferings, and the human word is like a cracked cauldron upon which we beat out melodies fit for making bears dance when we are trying to move the stars to pity.
Gustave Flaubert in Madame Bovary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The End
ADIEU, Madame! The moon of May
Wanes now above the orchard grey;
The white May-blossoms fall like snow,
As Love foretold a month ago--
Or was it only yesterday?
All pleasant things must pass away;
You would not, surely, have me stay?
I own I shun the inference! No!
Adieu, Madame!
Come, dry your eyes, for not this way
Should end your pretty pastoral play.
You have no heart--you told me so--
And I adore you, as you know;
Smile, while I break my heart and say
Adieu, Madame!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Madame George
Down on cyprus avenue
With a childlike vision leaping into view
Clicking, clacking of the high heeled shoe
Ford & fitzroy, madame george
Marching with the soldier boy behind
Hes much older with hat on drinking wine
And that smell of sweet perfume comes drifting through
The cool night air like shalimar
And outside theyre making all the stops
The kids out in the street collecting bottle-tops
Gone for cigarettes and matches in the shops
Happy taken madame george
Thats when you fall
Whoa, thats when you fall
Yeah, thats when you fall
When you fall into a trance
A sitting on a sofa playing games of chance
With your folded arms and history books you glance
Into the eyes of madame george
And you think you found the bag
Youre getting weaker and your knees begin to sag
In the corner playing dominoes in drag
The one and only madame george
And then from outside the frosty window raps
She jumps up and says lord have mercy I think its the cops
And immediately drops everything she gots
Down into the street below
And you know you gotta go
On that train from dublin up to sandy row
Throwing pennies at the bridges down below
And the rain, hail, sleet, and snow
Say goodbye to madame george
Dry your eye for madame george
Wonder why for madame george
And as you leave, the room is filled with music, laughing, music,
Dancing, music all around the room
And all the little boys come around, walking away from it all
So cold
And as youre about to leave
She jumps up and says hey love, you forgot your gloves
And the gloves to love to love the gloves...
To say goodbye to madame george
Dry your eye for madame george
Wonder why for madame george
Dry your eyes for madame george
Say goodbye in the wind and the rain on the back street
In the backstreet, in the back street
Say goodbye to madame george
In the backstreet, in the back street, in the back street
Down home, down home in the back street
Gotta go
Say goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
Dry your eye your eye your eye your eye your eye...
Say goodbye to madame george
And the loves to love to love the love
Say goodbye
Oooooo
Mmmmmmm
Say goodbye goodbye goodbye goodbye to madame george
Dry your eye for madame george
Wonder why for madame george
The loves to love the loves to love the loves to love...
Say goodbye, goodbye
Get on the train
Get on the train, the train, the train...
This is the train, this is the train...
Whoa, say goodbye, goodbye....
Get on the train, get on the train...
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Radio Activity
Radioactivity
Is in the air for you and me
Radioactivity
Discovered by Madame Curie
Radioactivity
Tune in to the melody
Radioactivity
Is in the air for you and me
Morse:
Radioactivity is in the air for you and me
Radioactivity discovered by madame curie
Radioactivity tune in to the ... Kraftwerk
Radio Aktivitaet
Fuer dich und mich in All entsteht
(=For you and me in Space comes into being)
Radio Aktivitaet
Strahlt Wellen zum Empfangsgeraet
(=Sends waves to the receiver)
Radio Aktivitaet
Wenn's um unsere Zukunft geht
(=When its about our future)
Morse:
Radioactivity is in the air for you and me
Radioactivity discovered by madame curie
Radioactivity tune in to the ... Kraftwerk
Radioactivity
Is in the air for you and me
Radioactivity
Discovered by Madame Curie
Radioactivity
Tune in to the melody
Radioactivity
Is in the air for you and me
song performed by by Kraftwerk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
See Not At All
The high and mighty lady who seldom
honours state office with her graceful
presence told Madame De Lafayette,
supervisor - off for follow-up tests
Still not coming to the office while the
rest of us are threatened with legal
procedures should we violate any
regulation pertaining to absence
Stunned by these double standards
some openly mimicking Madame La
Pompadour's haughty manner - the
Calvinistic work ethic of colleagues
Enabling them to do her work also, no-
body lodges a complaint; such good
officials, used to oppression for no
apparent reason other than
Management's inefficiency which only
intimidate the law-abiding while serial
offenders are untouchable - best is
to see La Madame not at all…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sudden Enlightenment
Maybe telepathic messages between people
do exist, I felt bad, then received SMS from
sis - in bed, ill with something, leading to sud-
den enlightenment when Madame Pompadour
sent her SMS: also in bed, sinus attack
really bad, pain and incontinence
I should never have speculated about lack of
telepathic communication, sis is connected to
a bed-ridden Madame Pompadour, my feeling
ill caused by vibrations from those two - let me
apologise to the genies in the sky for ex-
pressing distrust of telepathy
Today I know everything we think and feel is
diffused through osmosis and picked up by a
sensitive medium like me; let me lock mental
doors, only keep an aperture open for my
lovely colleagues: Pollyanna, Heidi, Maria
Von Trapp and Wendy who said
All is well in Neverland, God is in heaven and
Madame Pompadour in her bed – AMEN –
Heidi replied - eyes twinkling with
merriment…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Exemplary And Lavish Extravagance
Aaah, Madame La Pompadour needs time off
from the office they had built her, soundproof,
air-con, and everything she wants inside, today
she plays chauffer to the children in her neigh-
bourhood and visiting her mother in the old-age
home - she condescendingly told us - though
there is really no need why we should know
where she is, she is the free incumbent
Madame La Pompadour suffers agoraphobia
at home and claustrophobia in the office, her
problems are debilitating; she needs a bigger
office of course, with user-friendly interior
decorating - I sigh in admiration, such a very
exemplary and lavish extravagance, with the
cool presumption that a James Bond would
envy her, she does what she wants
Madame La Pompadour looks down on the
mundane civil servants - us - who man the
open-plan office, why should she earn her
salary like a slave when she gets it without
ever leaving her home?
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Prima Donna
Madame La Pompadour cannot come to work,
the world is spinning out of control, her dog
needs medical attention, her car cannot start in
the morning, her dog needs another vet, now
Madame Pompadour's newly built office is
empty - it was given as a compelling condition
for her return to work, yet it seems something
is lacking still, can we guess what it is
Maybe a chauffeur to drive her to work every
morning, a special kennel next to her office so
she can bring her dogs to be with her all day,
maybe a built-in a humidifier so she can breathe
freely without germs, maybe a Jacuzzi so she can
get rid of the tension right here at work, maybe
her own cook and kitchenette so she can order
the right meals with the same aplomb as
A Lady Gaga, surely Madame La Pompadour has
already dethroned both Madonna and Lady Gaga
for being a prima donna who gets her own way!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Suite Madame Blue
Time after time I sit and I wait for your call
I know Im a fool what can I say
Whatever the price Ill pay for you, madame blue
Once long ago, one word from your lips and the world turned around
But somehow youve changed, youre so far away
I long for the past and dream of the days with you, madame blue
Suite madame blue, gaze in your looking glass
Youre not a child anymore
Suite madame blue, the future is all but past
Dressed in your jewels, you made your own rules
You conquered the world and more ..............heavens door
America....america...america..america..
America....america...america..america..
America....america...america..america..
Red white and blue, gaze in your looking glass
Youre not a child anymore
Red, white, and blue, the future is all but past
So lift up your heart, make a new start
And lead us away from here
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
For none of us can ever express the exact measure of his needs or his thoughts or his sorrows; and human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars.
Gustave Flaubert in Charles Bovary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The High-Toned Old Christian Woman
Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame.
Take the moral law and make a nave of it
And from the nave build haunted heaven.Thus,
The conscience is converted into palms,
Like windy citherns hankering for hymns.
We agree in principle.That's clear.But take
The opposing law and make a peristyle,
And from the peristyle project a masque
Beyond the planets.Thus, our bawdiness,
Unpurged by epitaph, indulged at last,
Is equally converted into palms,
Squiggling like saxophones.And palm for palm,
Madame, we are where we began.Allow,
Therefore, that in the planetary scene
Your disaffected flagellants, well-stuffed,
Smacking their muzzy bellies in parade,
Proud of such novelties of the sublime,
Such tink and tank and tunk-a-tunk-tunk,
May, merely may, madame, whip from themselves
A jovial hullabaloo among the spheres.
This will make widows wince.But fictive things
Wink as they will.Wink most when widows wince.
poem by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A High-Toned Old Christian Woman
Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame.
Take the moral law and make a nave of it
And from the nave build haunted heaven. Thus,
The conscience is converted into palms,
Like windy citherns hankering for hymns.
We agree in principle. That's clear. But take
The opposing law and make a peristyle,
And from the peristyle project a masque
Beyond the planets. Thus, our bawdiness,
Unpurged by epitaph, indulged at last,
Is equally converted into palms,
Squiggling like saxophones. And palm for palm,
Madame, we are where we began. Allow,
Therefore, that in the planetary scene
Your disaffected flagellants, well-stuffed,
Smacking their muzzy bellies in parade,
Proud of such novelties of the sublime,
Such tink and tank and tunk-a-tunk-tunk,
May, merely may, madame, whip from themselves
A jovial hullabaloo among the spheres.
This will make widows wince. But fictive things
Wink as they will. Wink most when widows wince.
poem by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Tales Of Horror and Suspense
Madame Pompadour honoured us by graciously
informing the Department a terrible bug bit her in
the neck during the night, must have been Dracula
we immediately surmised, she a Damsel in distress
trying her best not to waste her time with the rest
of us plebs in the open-plan office, her door must
have been open and the evil monster attacked
perfectly on cue; mesmerised by the marvellous
adventures of our haughty Madame keeping her
head high while one event is followed by the next
incident; her list of original excuses is growing and
soon we shall publish a book delineating the lovely
progress of her exciting life, enlivening bureaucracy
with tales of Horror and Suspense!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tempestrousseau
The clock is dressed in drag, I mean it wears
space instead of its own proper aspect
but if it wore time, would it disappear
isn't visibility an effect
of transvestism, that shield pastime whose
crosscasual aim unmasks the eye: must you
assume the costume of the other to
be here, to present the sense with an ess. . .
Narcissus saw his guise decked out all ruse,
but if there were none, what would our true clothes
consist of, our rig rags, our regalia—
Whose dapper element dons us: Einstein's
continuum—or Flaubert's condence
that, come the same, the Bovary c'est Moi?
poem by Bill Knott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Madame George
(van morrison)
Originally performed by van morrison. this cover is found on the trash can tape (a bootleg tape).
Down on cyprus avenue
With a child-like vision leaping into view.
The clicking clacking of the high-heeled shoes,
Ford and fitzroy; madame george.
Marching with the soldierboy behind
Hes much older now with hat on, drinking wine
And the smell of sweet perfume comes drifting thru
In the cool night breeze like shalimar
And then your self control lets go
And suddenly youre up against the bathroom door.
The hallway lights are finely getting dim
Youre in the front row touching him
And outside theyre making all the stops
The kinds out in the streets collecting bottle tops,
Going for cigarettes and matches to the shops,
Happy talking, madame george
And thats when you fall, oh,
Oh, thats when you fall
And you fall into a trance
Sitting on a sofa playing games of chance
With your folded arms in history books you glance
Into the eyes of madame george
And you think youve found your bag,
Youre getting weaker and your knees begin to sag
And in the corner playing dominoes in drag,
The one and only madame george
And outside the frosty window raps
She says be cool, I think that its the cops
Stands up, drops everything she gots,
Its not easy now you know
Now you know you gotta go
Catch a train from dublin up to sandy row,
In the wind, rain & fog & slush & snow
Keep on going on
Say good-bye we know youre pretty far out
And all the little boys comin round
They got gold cigarette lighters in their pockets
Walking away from it all, so cool.
Thats when you fall.
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Queen à la Marie Antoinette
Come, let us toast, today and evermore,
Madame La Pompadour - Queen à la
Marie Antoinette - of Civil Servants
When continuous absence without leave
was revealed Management refused to be
blamed and called her breach of Labour
Regulations a regrettable psychiatric event
managers prove they were innocent by
rewarding her innovative behaviour
Building her a new office so she can come
and go as she wants, accountable to no-one,
no manager thus in dereliction of duty
Let us toast the eternal reign of the Miracle-
Working Madame La Pompadour, Scourge
of all Government Departments
Teaching common, inferior civil servants the
meaning of her New Imperial Reign over
Labour Relations!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!