Ostala Je Quotes

Whenever I hear Edith Piaf sing "Non, je ne regrette rien" - which is more often than I'd like, now that I'm at university - I can't help thinking, What the hell is she talking about? I regret pretty much everything. ~ David Nicholls

Since all living beings are bound by their craving for existence, you must begin by finding the determination to be free. ~ Je Tsongkhapa

How I understand that love of living, of being in this wonderful, astounding world even if one can look at it only through theprison bars of illness and suffering! Plus je vois, the more I am thrilled by the spectacle. ~ Edith Wharton

Vous êtes blessé?" Napoleon had asked him.
"Je vous demande pardon, sire, je suis tué," the adjutant had replied. And with these words he had fallen from his horse and had died instantly. ~ Leo Tolstoy

Men? They are simple creatures. Is there something wrong with your man? Feed him, and take him to your bed. Et Voila! All problems, they disappear. But if something is wrong with the woman? Je suis désolé. Women need to talk.– André Chevalier ~ Nikki Sex

Avec tout ce que je sais, on pourrait faire un livre... il est vrai qu'avec tout ce que je ne sais pas, on pourrait faire une bibliothèque.

With everything I know, I could create a book... and with everything I know not, I could create a library. ~ Sacha Guitry

Je pensais de meme que notre jeunesse etait finie et le bonheur manqué.

I thought too that our youth was over and we had failed to find happiness. ~ Alain-Fournier

He twirled her around a few more times before he said offhandedly, "Aren't you tired of fighting yet? I'm beginning to find it quite tedious m'self. I've even given you the benefit of the doubt-"
"Don't do me any favor."
He cocked his head to the side because she'd turned away to mumble that. "Are you challenging me to make you sweet and lovable again? I believe you are!"
Her eyes flew back to his, but she could't do anything more than sputter over the absurdity. His pale eyes were twinkling, holding back laughter no doubt. What the devil as he doing! Je couldn't be serious.Yet he rubbed his cheek against hers right there on the dance floor!
"What-"
She should never have turned in toward that unexpected caress. Was she destined to bump lips with him by accident? She drew back instantly while she had the presence of mine to do so. But he didn't.In fact, he moved closer, his mouth actually persuing hers until there was nothing accidental about it! She stumbled as her sensed whirled. That just encouraged him to hold her closer and kiss her more deeply. She was fast approaching the point of not caring!
Desperately, she tore her mouth away to gasp out, "You're going to cause a scandal!"
"I do believe it would be worth it," he said softly by her ear. "But it's only a minor infraction and quite overlooked, since everyone here knows we're married."
"No,they don't.I didn't have it announced."
He stopped abruptly. Several other couples even ~ Johanna Lindsey

There is a book to be written, for instance, on small errors in subtitles. In the Fred Astaire musical Royal Wedding, for instance, the English girl he falls for, played by Sarah Churchill (daughter of Sir Winston), is engaged to an American, whom we never see but who's called Hal - like Falstaff's prince, like a good high Englishman. That English H, though, was completely inaudible to the French translator who did the subtitles, and so throughout the film the absent lover is referred to in the subtitles as Al - Al like a stagehand, Al like my grandfather. If you have the habit of print addiction, so that you are listening and reading at the same time, this guy Al keeps forcing his way into the movie. "But what shall I say to Hal - that I have never loved him?" Patricia says to Fred. Down below it says, "Et Al - qu'est-ce que je vais lui dire? ~ Adam Gopnik

Plus je vois le homes, plus j'admire les chiens (The more I see of men, the more I admire dogs). ~ Marie-Jeanne Roland De La Platiere

Love isn't secretive or one-sided." "It isn't," he said fiercely. "Then tell me." He kissed her forehead. "Je t'aim. ~ Sylvain Reynard

INT. MINISTÈRE DES AFFAIRES MAGIQUES, RECORDS ROOM ATRIUM - NIGHT
MELUSINE: Puis-je vous aider?
NEWT: Er - yes, this is Leta Lestrange. And - I'm her -
TINA: Fiancé.
There is an increased awkwardness between them.
NEWT: Tina, about that fiancée business -
TINA (brittle): Sorry, yeah. I should have congratulated you -
The doors to the records office open. They enter briskly.

INT. MINISTÈRE DES AFFAIRES MAGIQUES, RECORDS ROOM - NIGHT
The doors close behind them, plunging them into darkness.
NEWT: No, that's -
TINA: Lumos.
NEWT: Tina - about Leta -
TINA: Yes, I've just said, I am happy for you -
NEWT: Yeah, well, don't.
She stops. Looks at him. What?
NEWT: Please don't be happy.
(in trouble) Uh, no, no. I'm sorry. I don't . . . Uh, obviously, I - Obviously I want you to be. And I hear that you are now. Uh, which is wonderful. Sorry -
(a gesture of hopelessness) What I'm trying to say is, I want you to be happy, but don't be happy that I'm happy, because I'm not.
(off her confusion) Happy.
(off her continued confusion) Or engaged.
TINA: What?
NEWT: It was a mistake in a stupid magazine. My brother's marrying Leta, June the sixth. I'm supposed to be best man. Which is sort of mildly hilarious.
TINA: Does he think you're here to win her back?
(beat)
Are you here to win her back?
NEWT: No! I'm here to -
A beat. He stares at her.
NE ~ J.K. Rowling

The name Maldoror, suggesting as it does evil, gold, horror, dawn, sadness etc., seems a curious hybrid, but on reading the work its full title, Les Chants de Maldoror par Le Comte de Lautreamont, seems to contain & imply the constant switches in narrative emphasis-the self as a game (je-jeu) & the author as observer, participant & invisible man-as well as being an inevitable & accurate condensation of, or hint at, the contents. ~ Alexis Lykiard

Non, je ne regrette rien. Because you just can't regret the things you learn from. ~ Alyson Noel

RECIPIES A Coq au Vin of a Different Color The red-wine casserole Julia Child sold us on was just one take on the classic dish. This pale-gold variant offers a je ne sais quoi all its own. By Gail Monaghan | 741 words ~ Anonymous

Virginia was not quite fourteen when Harry Edgar possessed her. He gave her lessons in algebra. Je m'imagine cela. They spent their honeymoon at Petersburg, Fla. "Monsieur Poe-poe," as that boy in one of Monsieur Humbert Humbert's classes in Paris called the poet-poet. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

Keep Writing, Keep Believing and never give up on your dreams ~ Julius JE Thompson

And Philippe won't speak English. She's sure he can - he's got that European je ne sais quoi that usually means Oh, I speak six languages. And a little Japanese. ~ Ellen Sussman

I came to terms with living mostly in a world of horror pictures or genre pictures. I have had a few chances to get outside and do something different, like Paris, Je T'Aime or Music Of The Heart, but mostly it's been my lot. And to have created, with a few shocking films, an awareness or a perception of me as somebody dangerous and scary - that can be sold, but trying to sell me for some other kind of picture, like Music Of The Heart, was very difficult. ~ Wes Craven

He buried his face in her hair. She felt his lips move against her ear when he said, "I never want to see you like this again." "Do you mean the dress or the cell?" A laugh shook him. "Definitely the cell." Then he cupped her face in his hands. "Jer molle pe oonet. Enel mörd je nej afva trohem verretn." Nina swallowed hard. She remembered those words and what they truly meant. I have been made to protect you. Only in death will I be kept from this oath. It was the vow of the drüskelle to Fjerda. And now it was Matthias' promise to her. She knew she should say something profound, something beautiful in response. Instead, she spoke the truth. "If we make it out of here alive, I'm going to kiss you unconscious. ~ Leigh Bardugo

Je ne regrette rien," I say, lifting my glass of water and sipping it. "That's the spirit," Evelyn says. "Although that song is more about not regretting because you don't live in the past. What I mean is that I'd still make a lot of the same decisions today. To be clear, there are things I regret. It's just . . . it's not really the sordid things. I don't regret many of the lies I told or the people I hurt. I'm OK with the fact that sometimes doing the right thing gets ugly. And also, I have compassion for myself. I trust myself. Take, for instance, when I snapped at you earlier, back at the apartment, when you said what you did about my confessing sins. It wasn't a nice thing to do, and I'm not sure you deserved it. But I don't regret it. Because I know I had my reasons, and I did the best I could with every thought and feeling that led up to it. ~ Taylor Jenkins Reid

Oh dear," said my mother, turning to Marmie and going "Ce Justin, est-il gai?" (This Justin, is he gay?)
Marmie handed her a hot chocolate and shrugged. "Qui sait? Je ne suis pas se petite amie." (Who knows? I'm not his girlfriend.) ~ Sarah Strohmeyer

- Qui vous a mis dans cette fichue position? - c'est le pigeon, Joseph. Patrice, home on furlough, lapped warm milk with me in the bar MacMahon. Son of the wild goose, Kevin Egan of Paris. My father's a bird, he lapped the sweet lait chaud with pink young tongue, plump bunny's face. Lap, lapin. He hopes to win in the gros lots. About the nature of women he read in Michelet. But he must send me La Vie de Jesus by M. Leo Taxil. Lent it to his friend. - C'est tordant, vous savez. Moi, je suis socialiste. Je ne crois pas en l'existence de Dieu. Faut pas le dire a mon p-re. - Il croit? - Mon pere, oui. ~ James Joyce

Te amo." "Je t'aime, mon cheri," Ty said brokenly. ~ Abigail Roux

("We will call Chase, Jeans Are Too Thight, and Fulton shall be Short One Chewing Tobacco," Hassan whispered to Colin.)

"Je m'appelle Pierre," Colin blurted out after the boys had introduced themselves. "Quand je vais dans le metro, je fais aussi de la musique de prouts. ~ John Green

Old boy," said Grimes, "you're in love."
"Nonsense!"
"Smitten?" said Grimes.
"No, no."
"The tender passion?"
"No."
"Cupid's jolly little darts?"
"No."
"Spring fancies, love's young dream?"
"Nonsense!"
"Not even a quickening of the pulse?"
"No."
"A sweet despair?"
"Certainly not."
"A trembling hope?"
"No."
"A frisson? a Je ne sais quoi?"
"Nothing of the sort."
"Liar!" said Grimes. ~ Evelyn Waugh

I don't know who are the men and who are the women. In French I used to say "je suis un femme et une homme." That is to say a feminine male and a masculine female. A she man and a he woman. What I am interested in is developing a singularity, which would be my own. ~ Orlan

His brown eyes would roam around the various sentimental and artistic bric-a-brac present, and his own banal toiles (the conventionally primitive eyes, sliced guitars, blue nipples and geometrical designs of the day), and with a vague gesture toward a painted wooden bowl or veined vase, he would say "Prenez donc une des ces poires. La bonne dame d'en face m'en offre plus que je n'en peux savourer." Or: "Mississe Taille Lore vient de me donner ces dahlias, belles fleurs que j'exècre. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

Voice is the je ne sais quoi of spirited writing. It separates brochures and brilliance, memo and memoir, a ship's log and The Old Man and the Sea. The best writers stamp prose with their own distinctive personality; their timbre and tone are as recognizable as their voices on the phone. To cultivate voice, you must listen for the music of language-the vernacular, the syntactic tics, the cadences. ~ Constance Hale

Hey," Anaxantis protested. "Oh," he added, when the Muktar prince took his member in his mouth. "Oh ... that's what you meant by servicing." He laughed softly.
"Aw, aw, teeth, teeth, no teeth," he hissed suddenly.
"Sowwy," Timishi, mumbled with his mouth full. "Towd you it wouldn't je jood. ~ Andrew Ashling

Can you say the following phrase in French: "Gentlemen, I haven't eaten in six days"?'

Ippolit Matveevich began haltingly, 'Messieurs... messieurs, je ne, I think, je ne mange pas... six, what is that again... un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six... six... jour. Right: je ne mange pas six jours!'

'That's quite a pronunciation you've got there, Kisa! Still, what do you expect from a beggar. Of course a beggar in European Russia speaks French worse than Millerand. ~ Ilya Ilf

Ohhhhh Je-sus you're wet. Oh fuck, you're so wet, baby. Are you serious with this? It's all over your legs."
She blurted the words without thinking.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Before trying to do something mitigating, like closing her legs. Doing so proved hard, however, with him almost between them and his big hands refusing to move from her thighs.
And he looked so ... so incredulous too.
"Don't be sorry. Don't. You should know it's hot as fuck that you're like this. Seriously." He paused. Seemed to consider, before continuing. "You always like this? ~ Charlotte Stein

I've been meaning to ask," said Magnus. "When Shinyun and I were fighting in the pentagram in Rome, you shot her. You told me that you could see dozens of illusions of me fighting dozens of her. How did you know which one was really her?"
"I didn't," said Alec. "I knew which one was you."
"Oh. Was one version of me more handsome than the others?" Magnus said, charmed. "More debonair? Possessed a certain je ne sais quoi?"
"I don't know about that," said Alec. "You reached for a knife. You had it in your grasp, and then you let it go."
Magnus deflated.
"You knew it was me because I'm worse at fighting than she is?" Magnus asked. "Well, that's terrible news. I imagine 'pathetic in combat' is on the top ten list of Shadowhutner turnoffs."
"No," said Alec.
"Number eleven, just below 'doesn't actually look good in black'?"
Alec shook his head again. "Before we were together," he said, "I was angry a lot, and I hurt people because I was in pain. Being kind when you're in pain - it's hard. Most people struggle to do it at the best of times. The demon who cast that spell couldn't imagine it. But among all those identical figures, there was one person who hesitated to hurt somebody, even at the moment of utmost horror. That had to be you. ~ Cassandra Clare

Je suis ce que je suis." – Death
"Is that a spell?" – Nick
"It's French, Nick. Means 'I am what I am.' Sheez, kid. Get educated. Read a book. I promise you it's not painful." – Death
"I would definitely argue that. Have you seen my summer reading list? It's nothing but girl books about them getting body parts and girl things I don't want to discuss in class with my female English teacher. Maybe in the boys' locker room and maybe with a coach, but not with a woman teacher in front of other girls who already won't go out with me. Or worse, they're about how bad all of us men reek and how we need to be taken out and shot 'cause we're an affront to all social and natural orders. Again – thanks, Teach. Give the girls even more reason to kick us down when we talk to one. Not like it's not hard enough to get up the nerve to ask one out. Can you say inappropriate content? And then they tell me my manga's bad. Riiight…Is it too much to ask that we have one book, just one, on the required reading list that says, 'Hey, girls. Guys are fun and we're okay. Really. We're not all mean psycho-killing, bloodsucking animals. Most of us are pretty darn decent, and if you'll just give us a chance, you'll find out we're not so bad.'" – Nick ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Caitlyn, s'il vous plait!" Madame said, whacking the blackboard with her stick, its end pointing to the irregular verb devoir, "to have to." She
wanted Caitlyn to conjugate it.
Caitlyn felt the class's attention turn to her, and a clammy sweat broke out in her armpits. Her brain stopped in its tracks, unable to move under
the pressure. A vague sense of having known how to speak French in her dreams tickled at her brain, but the skill was as lost to her in the waking
world as was Raphael.
"Devoir," Caitlyn croaked. "Er. Je dev? Tu dev?"
Madame gaped at her, horrified.
Caitlyn shook her head; she knew those words were wrong. "Er … I mean, uh …" And then out of nowhere came, "Egli deve, lei dovrebbe …"
These words felt right. He must, she must …
Several girls burst into laughter.
"What?" Caitlyn demanded.
"You're speaking Italian!" one girl shrieked, and collapsed into hysterical giggles. ~ Lisa Cach

I can't think of this country without Quebec. Je parle francais. And when I think about being a Canadian, speaking French is part of it. ~ Michael Ignatieff

Si vous m'accordez que l'homme a une âme - je veux que les bêtes en aient, toutes les bêtes - à commencer par le pourceau pour finir à la fourmi, aux animaux microscopiques. Si l'homme est libre les animaux sont libres, ils seront comme lui récompensés ou punis, que d'âmes diverses, que d'enfers, que de paradis eût dit Voltaire - cette réflexion est humiliante - elle conduit au matérialisme et au nihilisme.

(If you grant me that man has a soul, I like to think that animals have souls, too-all animals, from the pig to the ant, even the microscopic animals. If man is free, animals are free; like him they will be rewarded or punished. So many different souls, so many hells, so many heavens, Voltaire would have said. This reflection is humiliating. It leads to materialism or to nihilism.) ~ Gustave Flaubert

I said, "Je parle français." Indira gave me a weird look. Or a look that said I was weird. Whichever. The point is, I don't really speak French, but it's a useful phrase for confusing people you don't wish to speak with. However, it's apparently more useful in Europe, where no one enjoys speaking to the French. ~ Tucker Elliot

[W]hen habitus encounters a social world of which it is the product, it is like a "fish in water": it does not feel the weight of the water, and it takes the world about itself for granted could, to make sure that I am well understood, explicate Pascal's formula: the world encompasses me (me comprend) but I comprehend it (je le comprends) precisely because it comprises me. It is because this world has produced me, because it has produced the categories of thought that I apply to it, that it appears to me as self-evident. ~ Pierre Bourdieu

this responsibility for the death of my (m)other, is
a significance so irreducible that it is from it that the meaning of
death may be understood.

Responsibility here is no dictate but all the gravity of love of the
neighbour upon which the congenital meaning of that word love
rests and which every literary form of its sublimation or profanation
(I, je, eu) presupposes. ~ Erin Moure