All of a sudden, in the good-natured child, the woman stood revealed, a disturbing woman with all the impulsive madness of her sex, opening the gates of the unknown world of desire. Nana was still smiling, but with the deadly smile of a man-eater.

— Émile Zola

All round there was a rising tide of beer, widow Desire's barrels had all been broached, beer had rounded all paunches and was overflowing in all directions, from noses, eyes - and elsewhere. People were so blown out and higgledy-piggledy, that everybody's elbows or knees were sticking into his neighbor and everybody thought it great fun to feel his neighbor's elbows. All mouths were grinning from ear to ear in continuous laughter.

— Émile Zola

And then there are always clever people about to promise you that everything will be all right if only you put yourself out a bit... And you get carried away, you suffer so much from the things that exist that you ask for what can't ever exist. Now look at me, I was well away dreaming like a fool and seeing visions of a nice friendly life on good terms with everybody, and off I went, up into the clouds. And when you fall back into the mud it hurts a lot. No! None of it was true, none of those things we thought we could see existed at all. All that was really there was still more misery-- oh yes! As much of that as you like-- and bullets into the bargain!

— Émile Zola

A new dynasty is never founded without a struggle. Blood makes good manure. It will be a good thing for the Rough family to be founded on a massacre, like many illustrious families."--Monsieur de Carnavant

— Émile Zola

Art is a corner of creation seen through a temperament.

— Émile Zola

As if one killed by calculation! A person kills only from an impulse that springs from his blood and sinews, from the vestiges of ancient struggles, from the need to live and the joy of being strong.

— Émile Zola

At the street corner, a Conestoga house built of freestone, but repulsively decrepit and filthy, seemed to command the entrance, like a jail. And here, indeed, lived La Méchain, like a vigilant proprietress, ever on the watch, exploiting in person her little population of starving tenants.

— Émile Zola

Boredom was at the root of Lazier's unhappiness, an oppressive, unremitting boredom, exuding from everything like the muddy water of a poisoned spring. He was bored with leisure, with work, with himself even more than with others. Meanwhile, he blamed his own idleness for it, he ended by being ashamed of it.

— Émile Zola

But his doubts were again coming back to him; when you needed a miracle to gain belief, it means that you are incapable of believing. There is no need for the Almighty to prove His existence.

— Émile Zola

But you said so yourself, the poor lass will die of it... Do you really want her to die?' Yes, I'd rather she died than have a bad life.

— Émile Zola