A Quote by Honore de Balzac

For a sick man the world begins at his pillow and ends at the foot of his bed. — © Honore de Balzac
For a sick man the world begins at his pillow and ends at the foot of his bed.
It would surpass the powers of a well man nowadays to take up his bed and walk, and I should certainly advise a sick one to lay down his bed and run.
Each man begins with his own world to conquer, and his education is the measure of his conquest.
It is the great destiny of human science, not to ease man's labors or prolong his life, noble as those ends may be nor to serve the ends of power, but to enable man to walk upright without fear in a world which he at length will understand and which is his home.
The idea of beauty which man creates for himself imprints itself on his whole attire, crumples or stiffens his dress, rounds off or squares his gesture, and in the long run even ends by subtly penetrating the very features of his face. Man ends by looking like his ideal self. These engravings can be translated either into beauty or ugliness; in one direction, they become caricatures, in the other, antique statues.
Woman begins by resisting a man's advances and ends by blocking his retreat.
I want so much for my lover. At night when our beds are drawn close together I waken and see his dear yellow head on the pillow - sometimes his arm thrown over on my bed - and I kiss his hand, very softly so that it will not waken him.
I'll take a foot fetish with a man and his wife over a foot fetish with a man and his mistress any day. I don't care what they do. You go with it with your marriage and have a good time.
Give a moment or two to the angry young man with his foot in his mouth and his heart in his hand.
Courage charms us, because it indicates that a man loves an idea better than all things in the world, that he is thinking neither of his bed, nor his dinner, nor his money, but will venture all to put in act the invisible thought of his mind.
The sobs and tears of joy he had not foreseen rose with such force within him that his whole body shook and for a long time prevented him from speaking. Falling on his knees by her bed. He held his wife's hand to his lips and kissed it, and her hand responded to his kisses with weak movement of finger. Meanwhile, at the foot of the bed, in the midwife's expert hands, like the flame of a lamp, flickered the life of a human being who had never existed before.
The poet begins where the man ends. The man's lot is to live his human life, the poet's to invent what is nonexistent.
As long as His Majesty is sick, I will move my bed to his chambers, the better to care for him.
Religion ends and philosophy begins, just as alchemy ends and chemistry begins, and astrology ends and astronomy begins.
A man only begins to be a man when he ceases to whine and revile, and commences to search for the hidden justice which regulates his life. And he adapts his mind to that regulating factor, he ceases to accuse others as the cause of his condition, and builds himself up in strong and noble thoughts; ceases to kick against circumstances, but begins to use them as aids to his more rapid progress, and as a means of the hidden powers and possibilities within himself.
The man who begins to go to bed forty minutes before he opens his bedroom door is bored; that is to say, he is not living.
Each side takes the position of the man who was arrested for swinging his arms and hitting another in the nose, and asked the judge if he did not have a right to swing his arms in a free country. 'Your right to swing your arms ends just where the other man's nose begins.
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