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J'ai en tout quarante roubles; il prendra les roubles et il me tuera tout de meme." In his panic he for some reason shut up the umbrella and laid it down beside him. A cart came into sight on the high road in the distance coming from the town. "Grace a Dieu, that's a cart and it's coming at a walking pace; that can't be dangerous.
When the Duke took his wife into the country, Florac never hesitated to say that to live with her was dangerous for the old man, and to cry out to his friends of the Boulevards or the Jockey Club, "Ma parole d'honneur, cette femme le tuera!"
When will men understand that the reading of great books is a faculty to be acquired, not a natural gift, at least not to those who are spoiled by our current education and habits of life? Ceci tuera cela, the last great poet might have said of the first circulating library.
I want papa to know. 'Il vous tuera, said Madame Melmotte. 'My God, yes. 'Then he shall, said Marie, clinging to her lover. 'I will never marry Lord Nidderdale. If he were to cut me into bits I wouldn't do it. Felix, you love me; do you not? 'Certainly, said Sir Felix, slipping his arm round her waist. 'Mamma, said Marie, 'I will never have any other man but him; never, never, never.
Claude Frollo, holding the first printed book he had seen in one hand, and pointing with the other to the gigantic mass of Notre Dame, dark against the sunset, prophesied “Ceci tuera cela.” One might to-day paraphrase the sentence which Victor Hugo put into his archdeacon’s mouth, and pointing to the elaborately appointed dinner-tables of our generation, assert that the Dinner was killing the Drama.
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