"She has been sent with an equerry to demand of monseigneur if he does not wish a little sculpture upon his dome as well as the colour decorations!" "'Tis true, my ancient ?" another asked of me.
I made no repartee, continuing to sit with my chin dependent upon my cravat, but with things not the same in my heart as formerly to the arrival of that grey pongee, the grey glove, and the beautiful voice.
Since King Charles the Mad, in Paris no one has been completely free from lunacy while the spring-time is happening.

There is something in the sun and the banks of the Seine.

The Parisians drink sweet and fruity champagne because the good wines are already in their veins.

These Parisians are born intoxicated and remain so; it is not fair play to require them to be like other human people.

Their deepest feeling is for the arts; and, as everyone had declared, they are farceurs in their tragedies, tragic in their comedies.