.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 (extrait : Contes de ma Mère l'Oye, Barbe-Bleue de Charles Perrault)

On n’a jamais plus parlé du romantisme que depuis qu’on dit : 

" Le romantisme est mort "

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             (Victor (Victor Hugo)

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       * Neige à la Saint-Nicolas donne froid pour trois mois.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  * Saint-Nicolas fait les bons mariages, guérit de la fièvre et de la rage.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                              * Le jour de la Saint-Nicolas décembre est le moins froid.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     * Saint-Nicolas marie les filles avec les gars.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             * A la Saint-Nicolas, l'hiver est souvent las. 

Rien ne vaut la vraie Amitié  ...

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        On On m’a demandé combien coûte un ami,

J’ai répondu que je ne savais pas.

Ceux que j’ai, je pense les avoir mérités,

On ne les vend nulle part, ils n’ont pas de prix,

Mais ont une valeur inestimable  ...

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                (Auteur (Auteur inconnu)

.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           Pour un homme, aimer, c’est cueillir la beauté d’une femme, la mettre sous serre, pour qu’elle s’y sente à l’abri et la chérir…jusqu’à ce que le temps la fane, alors les hommes repartent cueillir d’autres coeurs.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Je me suis fait la promesse que si un jour il m’arrivait d’aimer, d’aimer vraiment, alors je préserverais la fleur et m’interdirais de la couper !

                                                                                                                                                                                                                             ( Marc ( Marc Levy )

.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   " Quand je suis triste, je pense à vous : comme l’hiver on pense au soleil ...

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Et quand je suis gai, je pense à vous : comme en plein soleil on pense à l’ombre " ! 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        (Victor (Victor Hugo)

 "L'espérance est une joie qui ne s'use pas"  (Marcel Aymé)