Pouvons Nous Aller Quotes

Combien de choses nous servoyent hier d'articles de foy, qui nous sont fables aujourd'huy?
How many things served us yesterday for articles of faith, which today are fables for us? ~ Michel De Montaigne

Physiognomy is not a guide that has been given us by which to judge of the character of men: it may only serve us for conjecture.
[Fr., La physionomie n'est pas une regle qui nous soit donnee pour juger des hommes; elle nous peut servir de conjecture.] ~ Jean De La Bruyere

I will say this about the upper echelon in France: they know how to spend money. From what I saw living in America, wealth is dedicated to elevating the individual experience. If you're a well-off child, you get a car, or a horse. You go to summer camps that cost as much as college. And everything is monogrammed, personalized, and stamped, to make it that much easier for other people to recognize your net worth.



…The French bourgeois don't pine for yachts or garages with multiple cars. They don't build homes with bowling alleys or spend their weekends trying to meet the quarterly food and beverage limit at their country clubs: they put their savings into a vacation home that all their family can enjoy, and usually it's in France. They buy nice food, they serve nice wine, and they wear the same cashmere sweaters over and over for years. I think the wealthy French feel comfortable with their money because they do not fear it. It's the fearful who put money into houses with even bedrooms and fifteen baths. It's the fearful who drive around in yellow Hummers during high-gas-price months becasue if they're going to lose their money tomorrow, at least other people will know that they are rich today. The French, as with almost all things, privilege privacy and subtlety and they don't feel comfortable with excess. This is why one of their favorite admonishments is tu t'es laisse aller. You've lost control of yourself. You've let yourself go. ~ Courtney Maum

The mirror follows us, but it's not a friend. (Le miroir nous suit, - Mais n'est un ami.) ~ Charles De Leusse

The siren that is this city speaks to us insistently even after we've moved away. She belongs to us, truly, and to each in a different way. Paris nous appartient. ~ Veronique Vienne

Plato and the neo-Platonists taught that the beauty we see in nature is a reflection of the beauty of the ultimate, the nous. For us, too, the beauty of present theories is an anticipation, a premonition, of the beauty of the final theory. And in any case, we would not accept any theory as final unless it were beautiful. ~ Steven Weinberg

Seulement la terre qui obéit,
sait bien qu'elle tourne en rond,
tandis que nous vers l'infini
nous précipitons.

Translation:
But the obedient Earth well knows
that she moves round and round,
whereas we hurtle down
toward infinity. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Let me whisper my belief, entre nous, that of those eminent philosophers who cry out against parsons the loudest, there are not many who have got their knowledge of the church by going thither often. ~ William Makepeace Thackeray

I started to turn toward the closest bus stop. Alex turned the other way. "Suivez-moi," he commanded. So I followed. "Bon.Je pensais que nous irions-"
"Alex."
He stopped. "Ella."
"Don't do that, the immersion thing."
"Mais, c'est tres important."
"Alex."
"Ella."
"Please.I know you do this with other linguistic losers, but it makes me feel like I should have a great big L lipsticked onto my forehead in some swirly French calligraphy."
"Do you often contemplate decorating yourself in such a manner?"
I took a quick look down.I was wearing Sienna's turtleneck again, but my own jeans. There was a large blue sea horse from the art museum fountain running from my knee to the crease of my thigh. "Yeah," I admitted. "I do."
"Quelle horreur!" he declared, eyes round in mock distress.
"Casse-toi."
He let out a bark of laughter that sounded just like a seal. "Tres bien, Mademoiselle Marino. Got any more?"
"A couple.Frankie gave me a copy of How to Offend the French when I managed to get a B in 1B last year."
"Well,I never trade insults on a first date. Not that kinda guy. But after two or three..."
I liked that he'd said "date," instead of "tutoring session." Even if it wasn't and he totally didn't mean it. I couldn't help it. ~ Melissa Jensen

passions without truth, truths without passion; heroes without heroic deeds, history without events; development, whose sole driving force seems to be the calendar, wearying with constant repetition of the same tensions and relaxations; antagonisms that periodically seem to work themselves up to a climax only to lose their sharpness and fall away without being able to resolve themselves; pretentiously paraded exertions and philistine terror at the danger of the world's coming to an end, and at the same time the pettiest intrigues and court comedies played by the world redeemers, who in their laisser aller remind us less of the Day of Judgment than of the times of the Fronde – the official collective genius of France brought to naught by the artful stupidity of a single individual; the collective will of the nation, as often as it speaks through universal suffrage, seeking its appropriate expression through the inveterate enemies of the interests of the masses, until at length it finds it in the self-will of a filibuster. If any section of history has been painted gray on gray, it is this. ~ Karl Marx

Raised eyebrows , Is she a billet ?
The smile, a natural born sniper?
The lips, a CPR the mystic needs
Aura, like the moon during the day
Nous, like an exclamation mark with a purpose
Not an ordinary mortal she is
but an incantatory healing power ~ Kshanasurya

I love being with you,
to live,love and laugh out loud.
LOL ~ Aina Aller

It is always easy to mock 'distress,' but we are its contemporaries; we are at the endpoint of what Nous, ratio, & Logos, still today the framework for what we are, cannot have failed to show: that murder is the first thing to count on, and elimination the surest means of identification. Today, everywhere, against this black but 'enlightened' background, remaining reality is disappearing in the mire of a 'globalized' world. Nothing, not even the most obvious phenomena, not even the purest, most wrenching love, can escape this era's shadow: a cancer of the subject, whether in the ego or in the masses... ~ Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe

Apre' s le rare bonheur de trouver une compagne qui nous soit bien assortie, l'e tat le moins malheureux de la vie est sans doute de vivre seul. After the rare happiness of finding a companion with whom we are well matched, the least unpleasant state of life is without doubt to live alone. ~ Jacques-Henri Bernardin De Saint-Pierre

Captain Jack, that volatile Modoc, seems to have been handled still more causally. After being hanged and buried, Jack was exhumed, embalmed, and exhibited at carnivals: admission ten cents. How many instances of such sensibility one chooses to catalogue may be limited by the amount of time spent turning over musty pages. During the seventeenth century, Robert Cavalier, Sieur de La Salle, came upon a wood plank near the ruins of Ft. Crèvecoeur deep in the wilderness of the New World, upon which a French deserter had printed: NOUS SOMMES TOUS SAUVAGES ~ Evan S. Connell

We participate, without feeling it's significance, to a battle of the free life against the profitable agony.
This battle is not lead the way military do. It never expects neither victory nor defeat, it does not rely on tactics, it mobilizes nor brute force nor the ruse. It is not based on any project, nor any action plan.
It is a battle on between a decay of all things, a weariness of the people that convinced them to die, and the permanent revival of a life that will never give up, permanently claims rights, and progresses through its quiet determination to ignore the obstacles. ~ Raoul Vaneigem

For the time being, all you need to do is become acquainted with St. Vincent. And if you decide you don't wish to marry him, for any reason, you won't have to."
They both stood. Impulsively, Pandora stepped forward and dove her face against Devon's chest and hugged him, undoubtedly surprising I'm as much as herself. She rarely sought out physical contact with anyone. "Thank you," she said in a muffled voice. "It means a great deal that my feelings matter to you."
"Of course they do, sweetheart." Devon gave her a comforting squeeze before drawing back to look down at her. "Do you know the motto on the Ravenel coat of arms?"
"Loyalté nous lie."
Do you know what that means?"
"'Never make us angry?'" Pandora guessed, and was rewarded by his deep laugh. "Actually, I do know," she said. "It means 'loyalty binds us.'"
"That's right," Devon said. "Whatever happens, we Ravenels will remain loyal to each other. We'll never sacrifice one for the sake of the rest. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Nous avons ete amies," I added. "There,that's two in French, and using past perfect, no less."
I couldn't see his expression clearly. It flet like a long time before he said anything. "Ella..." He paused, then, "What happened? Between you and Anna?"
"Other than the fact that I'm a fashion-impaired poor kid who draws doorknobs? Haven't a clue."
Alex leaned forward. Now I could see his face. He looked annoyed. "Why do you do that? Diminish yourself?"
"I don't-"
"Bullshit."
I could feel my cheeks flaming, feel my shoulders curving inward. "I don't-"
"Right.Don't.Just don't, with me, anyway. I like you better feisty."
I couldn't help it; that made me smile. "Did you really just say 'feisty'?"
"I did.It's a good word."
"It's am old word, favored by granddads and pirates."
"Yar," Alex sighed.
"Face it.You're just an old-fashioned guy."
"Whatever.Three...?"
"Three," I said, and changed my mind midthought. "I haven't been able to decide if Willing is the second best thing that ever happened to me, or the second worst."
"What are the firsts?"
"Nope.Uh-uh.It is not for you to ask, Alexander Bainbridge, but to reveal."
He drained his glass and rolled it back and forth between his hands. "I had all these funny admissions planned, but you've screwed up my plans. Hey. Don't go all wounded-wide-eyed on me. It's cute, that Bambi thing you have going, but beside the point.Now I have to rethink."
"You don ~ Melissa Jensen

[On England's elimination from the 2002 World Cup after losing 2-1 to Brazil] Never was Steven Gerrard more noticeably missed, for his ability to pass, rather than kick the ball over 40 yards and for his steely mentality. Not for the first time, Eriksson's substitutions were baffling. The situation cried for Joe Cole, the one England player with a trick to beat a man, but it was the convalescent Kieron Dyer who was sent on, in place of Sinclair. Owen, never fully fit, was withdrawn after 80 minutes, at which stage Eriksson sent on Darius Vassell and Teddy Sheringham in a move which smacked of desperation, rather than tactical nous. From Sven-Goran Eriksson: The Final Reckoning ~ Joe Lovejoy

All you need is patience and a bit of nous. ~ M.L. Stedman

O tyrant love, when held by you,
We may to prudence bid adieu.
[Fr., Amour! Amour! quand tu nous tiens
On peut bien dire, Adieu, prudence.] ~ Jean De La Fontaine

The body is a clothing that suits us for life. (Le corps est un habit - Qui nous va à vie.) ~ Charles De Leusse

In this entre-nous spirit, then, old confidant before we join the others, the grounded everywhere, including, I'm sure, the middle-aged hot-rodders who insist on zooming us to the moon, the Dharma Bums, the makers of cigarette filters for thinking men, the Beat and the Sloppy and the Petulant, the chosen cultists, all the lofty experts who know so well what we should or shouldn't do with our poor little sex organs, all the bearded, proud, unlettered young men and unskilled guitarists and Zen-killers and incorporated aesthetic Teddy boys who look down their thoroughly unenlightened noses at this splendid planet where (please don't shut me up) Kilroy, Christ, and Shakespeare all stopped – before we join these others, I privately say to you, old friend (unto you, really, I'm afraid), please accept from me this unpretentious bouquet of very early-blooming parentheses: (((()))). ~ J.D. Salinger