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From the cradle to the grave,
A heavy burden crushes us . . .
Constrains the mind, destroys our strength,
Wreathes our brow with thorns . . .
And yet, with amazing power
Our lips run along the…
Dark-faced foreigners have flooded the city. They go about rushing through the boulevards, but in the suburbs they already stop to congregate, talk in a strong and loud voice, heavily gesticulating. I…
When death comes to me, whether in France or abroad, I leave it to my dear wife or, failing her, to my children, to arrange for such burial as may seem best to them. I wish the ceremony to be a civil…