Marceline Desbordes-Valmore

“Poetry is everything that is intimate in everything.”

“Memory is invisible presence.”

“Do not write. I am sad, and I would like to die. The beautiful summers without you are like a night without a torch.”

“One does not belong to a country, one belongs to a childhood.”

“The soul is a dove: it flies where it loves.”

“A child's cradle is a mother's soul.”

“I am like the flower, I open myself to prayer.”

“For I have troubles that only time erases, and that leave no memories in the heart.”

“What have you done with my soul, to return it to me with dread?”

“Don't strew me with flowers after I'm dead. Don't shed any tears, but walk past my grave whistling a tune.”

“Go, little page, and tell my love that I am sick with waiting for him.”