Top 72 Quotes & Sayings by Georges Bernanos

Explore popular quotes and sayings by a French author Georges Bernanos.
Last updated on September 18, 2024.
Georges Bernanos

Louis Émile Clément Georges Bernanos was a French author, and a soldier in World War I. A Catholic with monarchist leanings, he was critical of elitist thought and was opposed to what he identified as defeatism. He believed this had led to France's defeat and eventual occupation by Germany in 1940 during World War II. His two major novels "Sous le soleil de Satan" (1926) and the "Journal d’un curé de campagne" (1936) both revolve around a parish priest who combats evil and despair in the world. Most of his novels have been translated into English and frequently published in both Great Britain and the United States.

A poor man with nothing in his belly needs hope, illusion, more than bread.
Hope is a risk that must be run.
The wish to pray is a prayer in itself. God can ask no more than that of us. — © Georges Bernanos
The wish to pray is a prayer in itself. God can ask no more than that of us.
No one ever discovers the depths of his own loneliness.
What does the truth matter? Haven't we mothers all given our sons a taste for lies, lies which from the cradle upwards lull them, reassure them, send them to sleep: lies as soft and warm as a breast!
Hell, madam, is to love no longer.
A thought which does not result in an action is nothing much, and an action which does not proceed from a thought is nothing at all.
The first sign of corruption in a society that is still alive is that the end justifies the means.
Purity is not imposed upon us as though it were a kind of punishment, it is one of those mysterious but obvious conditions of that supernatural knowledge of ourselves in the Divine, which we speak of as faith. Impurity does not destroy this knowledge, it slays our need for it.
It is the perpetual dread of fear, the fear of fear, that shapes the face of a brave man.
The modern state no longer has anything but rights; it does not recognize duties any more.
Truth is meant to save you first, and the comfort comes afterward.
Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air. — © Georges Bernanos
Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air.
It's a fine thing to rise above pride, but you must have pride in order to do so.
Civilization exists precisely so that there may be no masses but rather men alert enough never to constitute masses.
Who are you to condemn another's sin? He who condemns sin becomes part of it, espouses it.
Faith is not a thing which one 'loses', we merely cease to shape our lives by it.
I know the compassion of others is a relief at first. I don't despise it. But it can't quench pain, it slips through your soul as through a sieve. And when our suffering has been dragged from one pity to another, as from one mouth to another, we can no longer respect or love it.
What does it matter, all is grace.
What a cunning mixture of sentiment, pity, tenderness, irony surrounds adolescence, what knowing watchfulness! Young birds on their first flight are hardly so hovered around.
Hell, madame, is to love no longer.
Lust is a mysterious wound in the side of humanity; or rather, at the very source of its life! To confound this lust in man with that desire which unites the sexes is like confusing a tumor with the very organ which it devours, a tumor whose very deformity horribly reproduces the shape.
Rather than the obsession with impurity, you'd do better to fear the nostalgia for purity.
I can now see to the bottom of my own depths, there is nothing stopping my gaze, no obstacle is in the way. And there is nothing there.
But I shall give less thought to the future, I shall work in the present. I feel such work is within my power. For I only succeed in small things, and when I am tried by anxiety, I am bound to say it is the small joys that release me.
I don't think we can ever learn much from ultra-sensitive, shifty faces, skilled in disguise, that hide themselves in lust, as beasts hide to die.
Like all truly pure souls she [Chantal] quickly resigned herself to past faults, thought only of how to repair whatever harm they had done. "Of all my daughters, you are certainly the least bothered by scruples of conscience," Abbé Chevance used to say.... Even sin, once the will is detached and no longer nourishes it, withers and dies sterile. It is in the secret of intentions, like in a decomposing humus, in the dark forest of future sins, unpardoned sins, half dead, half living, that new poisons are distilled.
Faith is not a thing which one loses, we merely cease to shape our lives by it.
[P]ride has no intrinsic substance, being no more than the name given to the soul devouring itself. When that loathsome perversion of love has borne its fruit, it has another, more meaningful and weightier name. We call it hatred.
The wish to pray is a prayer in itself.
Optimism has always seemed to me the cunning alibi of egoists, anxious to cover up their state of chronic self-satisfaction. They are optimists in order to avoid pitying other men and their misfortune. ~~ Yet pity is a vexed question.
First of all, be what you are.
[A] good Christian does not care for miracles very much, because a miracle is God looking after His own affairs, and we prefer looking after them for Him.
I have done no passably decent job in this world which did not at first seem to me useless - absurdly useless, useless to the point of nausea. My secret demon is called:;: What's the use?
To be able to share in another's joy, that is the secret of happiness.
Le de s ir de la prie' re est de j a' une prie' re. The wish for prayer is already a prayer.
There is nothing that God hates so much as a liar.
Hell is not to love anymore. — © Georges Bernanos
Hell is not to love anymore.
God! how is it that we fail to recognize that the mask of pleasure, stripped of all hypocrisy, is that of anguish?
Truth is meant to save you first, and the comfort comes afterwards.
When writing of oneself one should show no mercy. Yet why at the first attempt to discover one's own truth does all inner strength seem to melt away in floods of self-pity and tenderness and rising tears?
Sadness came into the world with Satan - that world our Saviour never prayed for, the world you say I do not know. Oh, it is not so difficult to recognize: it is the world that prefers cold to warmth! What can God find to say to those who, of their own free will, of their own weight incline towards sadness and turn instinctively towards the night?
A large number of suspects, both men and women, escaped martial law for lack of any shred of evidence against them on which a court-martial could convict. So they began setting them free in groups, according to their birth-place. But half-way, the car-load would be emptied into a ditch.
Optimism approves of everything, submits to everything, believes everything; it is the virtue above all of the taxpayer.
Suicide only really frightens those who are never tempted by it and never will be, for its darkness only welcomes those who are predestined to it.
Fear, true fear, is a savage frenzy. Of all the insanities of which we are capable, it is surely the cruelest. There is naught to equal its drive, and naught can survive its thrust.
God ordains that beggars should beg for greatness, as for all else, when greatness shines out of them, and they don't know it.
A man given to vice is always an idealist. — © Georges Bernanos
A man given to vice is always an idealist.
To you a pious young girl who goes to mass and communion, seems pretty silly and childish; you take us for innocents... Well, let me tell you, sometimes we know more about evil than people who have only learned to offend God.
Fact is Our Lord knew all about the power of money: He gave capitalism a tiny niche in His scheme of things, He gave it a chance, He even provided a first installment of funds. Can you beat that? It's so magnificent. God despises nothing. After all, if the deal had come off, Judas would probably have endowed sanatoriums, hospitals, public libraries or laboratories.
[T]he cradle is shallower than the grave.
Chantal's only ruse ... was her shattering simplicity. While a weak man or an imposter is always more complicated than the problem he is trying to solve, and thinking to encompass his adversary, merely keeps prowling interminably around himself, the heroic nature will throw itself into the heart of the danger to turn it to its own use, just as captured artillery is turned about and aimed at the backs of the fleeing enemy.
The world is eaten up by boredom. You can't see it all at once. It is like dust. You go about and never notice, you breathe it in, you eat and drink it. It is sifted so fine, it doesn't even grit on your teeth. But stand still for an instant and there it is, coating your face and hands.
Justice in the hands of the powerful is merely a governing system like any other. Why call it justice? Let us rather call it injustice, but of a sly effective order, based entirely on cruel knowledge of the resistance of the weak, their capacity for pain, humilation and misery. Injustice sustained at the exact degree of necessary tension to turn the cogs of the huge machine-for-the-making-of-rich-men, without bursting the boiler.
Appearances are nothing.... And first of all they should not be feared, they are only dangerous to the weak.
...the most dangerous shortsightedness consists in underestimating the mediocre.
You owe it to everyone you love to find pockets of tranquility in your busy world.
The devil, you see, is that friend who never stays with us to the end.
And what have you laymen made of hell? A kind of penal servitude for eternity, on the lines of your convict prisons on earth, to which you condemn in advance all the wretched felons your police have hunted from the beginning - enemies of society, as you call them. You're kind enough to include the blasphemers and the profane. What proud or reasonable man could stomach such a notion of God's justice? And when you find that notion inconvenient it's easy enough for you to put it on one side. Hell is not to love any more, Madame. Not to love any more!
Only the present counts.
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