Champagne Widows: First Woman of Champagne, Veuve Clicquot

Esprit de l’escalier. Staircase wit; the brilliant thing you should have said, coming to you only as you leave by the stairs

The anchor symbolizes clarity and courage during chaos and confusion,” my Grand-mere says. “Chaos and Confusion, aren’t those your cats names?” Now I know her story is a delusion.

Life can change in the flash of a shooting star, and the people we love can be out of our reach forever.

No snowflake in a blizzard ever feels responsible.

Fighting is a soldier’s only religion. But it has proven useful to adopt the religion of the country I wish to conquer.

From then on, my sense of smell swelled beyond reason. Mostly ordinary odors, but sometimes I imagine I can smell the stink of a lie. Or the perfume of a pure heart. Or the heartbreaking smell of what could have been.

Wars are senseless and cruel, fought for our power hungry emperor, not for the people.

bantams with big puffy chests and exotic head-dresses, bright orange coats with black tails. A couple of roosters sport bright red combs and wattles.

Heard straight from Napoleon’s mouth himself,” I say. “Champagne! In victory we deserve it, and in defeat we need it.

Politics is a moving target with no bullseye of truth, breaking up more families than uniting them.

Optimism is the madness of insisting that all is well when we are miserable.

Peu à peu, l’oiseau fait son nid.” Little by little, the bird makes his nest.

I am a fallow field waiting for your spring rain to awaken me.