Befikre' is not just about two characters. There is another very prominent third character, and that is Paris.
Paris ain't much of a town.
there's something about Paris that gives you a mental slap all the time, and you can't just sit still and do nothing. You've got to work, to keep up with the pace, the sting in the atmosphere.
I felt that Paris was illuminated by a splendor possessed by no other places.
I have a flat in Paris and go there a lot, but the Eurostar's much more civilised than flying.
To breathe Paris is to preserve one's soul.
Lise: Paris has ways of making people forget. Jerry: Paris? No, not this city. It's too real and too beautiful. It never lets you forget anything. It reaches in and opens you wide, and you stay that way.
The one who has not seen Paris in the morning does not know how beautiful it is.
It is perfectly possible to be enamoured of Paris while remaining totally indifferent or even hostile to the French.
Every time I look down on this timeless town, whether blue or gray be her skies, whether loud be her cheers, or whether soft be her tears, more and more do I realize that...I love Paris.
Paris is in my story. Nobody can take it away.
I have two loves: my country and Paris.
Paris is always a good idea.
Instead of isolating our school and our many subjects from the every day world, we intend to plant it not merely in the French capital, but in what for next summer at least will be the focal point, the capital of the entire civilized world.
There is never any ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. We always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed or with what difficulties, or ease, it could be reached. Paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it. But this is how Paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy.
What an immense impression Paris made upon me. It is the most extraordinary place in the world!
Paris: city of encounters, of furtive and painful discoveries. All isms converge there, including the anti-isms, all the revolutionaries too, including the counterrevolutionaries .
The last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay, I heard the laughter of her heart in every street café.
I had my own Land of Lost Sidekicks, where I pretended I lived in Paris with my best friend, a little cowboy based on a Marky Maypo doll.
Paris has always seemed to me to be the only city in which one can live as one sees fit.
Paris was a museum displaying exactly itself.
I'd like to see Paris before I die... Philadelphia will do.
Though I often looked for one, I finally had to admit that there could be no cure for Paris.
Paris is a hard place to leave, even when it rains incessantly and one coughs continually from the dampness.
Paris, on the other hand, looked exactly as it was supposed to look. It wore its heart on its sleeve, and the strange thing was that the heart it wore so openly was in other ways so closed-mysterious, uninviting.
