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We had spent the afternoon in a cafe on the Rue Saint-Jacques, a spring afternoon just like any other. - A Certain Smile (ch. 1), (Anne Green translation) [Books (First Lines)] A strange melancholy pervades me to which I hesitate to give the grave and beautiful name of sorrow. The idea of sorrow has always appealed to me, but now I am almost ashamed of its complete egoism. I have known boredom, regret, and occasionally remorse, but never sorrow. Today it envelops me like a silken web, enervating and soft, and sets me apart from everybody else. - Bonjour Tristesse (ch. 1) [Books (First Lines)] To jealousy, nothing is more frightful than laughter. - La Chamade (ch. 9) [Jealousy]
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