Sayings about Paris in French with translation. Quotes and aphorisms about France and Paris

Paris is a city of romantics, freedom. He has always inspired writers, poets and artists. Picturesque streets, cozy cafes, the banks of the Seine, the Champs Elysees. Most consider it a city of entertainment, frivolous youth. Therefore, it is not surprising that quotes about Paris often speak of love, carelessness and touching naivety.

About the city

Of course, one of the main themes of quotes about Paris is love. All the romantics in the world strive to get to this city, and many girls dream of being proposed to them against the backdrop of eiffel tower. There is even romance and a feeling of lightness in the air.

"Paris is a holiday that is always with you" is a saying famous writer Ernest Hemingway, who wrote a book about his youth spent in this beautiful city. He believed that if a person was lucky to be young in this city, then its unique atmosphere will always be with him.

"Paris will remain Paris!" - many say that this city is not at all what it seems. They believe that people exaggerate his charm. Some quotes about Paris say that this is a hypocritical city that suits only rich people. But still, those who visit there, walk along the banks of the Seine, admire the Champs Elysees, believe that it has its own special atmosphere. Being imbued with it, people feel freer, younger, they believe that they can try something new. But Paris still continues to arouse admiration among people.

About Parisians

The French always seem to be people with some special charm, especially the Parisians. French women have always been considered the standard of style and unique charm. Therefore, in quotes about Paris special place given to its beautiful inhabitants. French women have always stood out among the rest of the beautiful half of humanity with their special charm, ease of communication.

Only they can dress casually and not spend time styling at all and will look charming. They conquer everyone with their grace, coquetry, audacity - this is the famous French charm. Even if a Parisian does not have perfect facial features, she will still be considered charming - precisely because of her grace and charm.

Quotes about Paris in French

This language is called one of the most romantic in the world. The famous grazing "r" gives it a special charm. To better understand quotes about Paris, you should read them in this beautiful language. For example, "A Paris, tout le monde veut être acteur. Le sort du spectateur ne convient à personne." - "In Paris, everyone wants to be actors. The fate of the audience does not suit anyone."

Or "Paris est une ville aux mille visions". "Paris is a city with a thousand faces." A lot can be said about this city. Everyone who visits there finds some kind of special charm. But the atmosphere of the holiday, the carelessness that reigns in it does not leave anyone indifferent. Quotes about Paris say a lot about the fact that this is a city of contrasts, that there is too much coquetry, that, despite the romance, there are many lonely people. But people also note that here even loneliness is perceived differently. But, despite all the opinions, Paris is still considered one of the most romantic and beautiful cities in the world.

Paris is not a city - it's a whole planet!
Interview with a Vampire

Cut my heart - you will find Paris in it!
Louis Aragon

Paris is the envy of those who have never seen it; happiness or misfortune (depending on how lucky) for those who live in it, but always - chagrin for those who are forced to leave it.
Honore de Balzac

When God is bored in heaven, he opens the window and looks out over the Parisian boulevards.
Midnight in Paris

There is no such city anywhere in the world… And there never has been!
Midnight in Paris

Paris is not a place where the plane is changed, it is a city where life is changed!
Sabrina

Being a Parisian does not mean being born in Paris. It means to be born there again.
Sasha Guitry

Lovers everywhere Paris!
sensualis

Paris. Here, even thoughts are born not habitually laconic, but seasoned with a light veil of poetry.
Tatyana Korsakova. You, me and Paris

This is how Paris ... destroys us slowly, sweetly, rubs us between its flowers and paper tablecloths stained with wine stains, burns us with its colorless fire that breaks out in the night from the porches eaten by time.
Julio Cortazar. Hopscotch game

How the rain reveals your character, Paris!
He changes the color of clothes, stones and roofs,
Instantly unties the knots of night lights
And the secrets of troubles and evil reveals to the roots.
Charles Dobzhinsky. Kiss in the Parc de Chaillot

There is no nostalgia in France. Only blues!
Emil Michel Cioran

Paris is the only city in the world where you can have a great time without actually doing anything.
Erich Maria Remarque. Triumphal Arch

If you are lucky and you lived in Paris in your youth, then wherever you are later, he will remain with you until the end of your days, because Paris is a holiday that is always with you.
Ernest Hemingway. A holiday that is always with you

Paris is a holiday that is always with you.
Ernest Hemingway

… Paris has its own special flavor that has not changed for centuries. It is impossible not to fall in love with this city. He was alive, had male character, aristocratic gallantry and was the opposite of my hometown. Moscow is a woman, a dazzling coquettish beauty. Her outfits are ultra-modern buildings with facades in the latest fashion. Her diamonds are night lights. Her smiles are shining shop windows. Her whims are a gloomy sky, which in a matter of minutes can give way to a bright sun. In pursuit of fashion, it is completely updated every few years. Paris is not like that. It has strength of character and masculine restraint. He prefers time-tested classics. Its stone appearance is refined and elegant, and its values ​​are eternal. Moscow was my friend, Paris became my lover.
Julia Nabokova. Cherche la vamp

PARIS is what you want it to be...

Paris is our city. Varied, fickle, fluid like the waters of the Seine. Statements about the City of Light are almost as diverse... But many great people considered it their duty to speak out about Paris... Here is our selection of quotes.

Ernest Hemingway

"If you are lucky and you lived in Paris in your youth, then wherever you are later, he will remain with you until the end of your days, because Paris is a holiday that is always with you."

From a letter from Ernest Hemingway to a friend

Henry IV

"Paris is worth a mass."

So said Henry IV in 1593 and converted to Catholicism.

V. Mayakovsky

"I would like to live and die in Paris, if there were no such land - Moscow."

"Even typhus in Paris is chic: the Parisians get it from oysters."

V. Mayakovsky, 1922

L. Belozerskaya-Bulgakova
"Little by little I fall in love with Paris. It's a magical city. It doesn't force anything. It has a smart condescension, and therefore everything turns out by itself, like people who do nothing for show." AT

. Yanovsky

"The air of Paris is special. It is enough to look at the landscape of a secondary french artist to make sure. In addition to paints, oxygen, nitrogen and other matters in it integral part there is also a complex molecule of primordial FREEDOM."

Dmitriev

"I am in Paris:
I began to live, not breathe."

Traveler's Journal (Epigraph to Peter the Great Pushkin's Moor)

Alexander Galich

And then again, together with Sinyavsky, they wandered around Paris, admired Paris, breathed in this extraordinary Parisian air, which even the herds of cars that filled the streets of Paris cannot spoil, because this air is beautiful.

Jean Cocteau

Everyone in Paris wants to be an actor. The fate of the viewer does not suit anyone.

Sasha Guitry French actor and playwright

"Being a Parisian does not mean being born in Paris. It means being born there again."

Joseph Brodsky

Paris has not changed. Place de Vosges
still, I tell you, square.
The river has not yet flowed back.
Boulevard Raspail is still pretty.
From the new - concerts for free
and a tower to feel - you're a louse.
There are many with whom it is pleasant to meet,
but the first to shout "how are you?"
In Paris, at night, in a restaurant... Chic
similar phrase - a holiday of the nasopharynx.
And enters aine kleine nakht man,
making a muzzle in a kosovortka.
Cafe. Boulevard. Girlfriend is not shoulder.
Moon, that your general secretary is paralyzed.

Georgy Zhzhenov, actor

".... Paris captivates from the first day of meeting! Literally after an hour of staying in it, you feel easy and simple, as with an old friendly friend. The charm of this wonderful city is in its soft cheerfulness and lightness, amazing lightness in everything! And above all in the architecture of its countless palaces and squares, mansard roofs, in its boulevards ... In the friendly life of the streets, in witty, sociable people, in the climate, finally! ..."

From the book "Experienced"

"I want to go to Paris again!" - this famous phrase, which seemed improbable before, today becomes quite probable. The world opens up different directions for us to amazing trip. The city of Paris always attracts great amount tourists and travelers from all over the world and from the most remote corners of the planet. Every woman dreams of visiting Paris; it is such a romantic city that poems are written about it. These verses, which we have collected in this post, reveal different impressions of this city. The author of lyrical poems is Tatyana Vorontsova. For many, she may be unknown, but her poems mentally take us to Paris with the warm aroma of a French bun, cozy cafes and streets, with green parks and Parisian night lights.

Parisian light ... Oh, how it beckons
Magic magic of flowers -

That timidly hides in the fog,
Glittering with streams of rain ...
Then suddenly drown in the ocean

Like a wizard in wonderland

It will flash like lightning from heaven.

Then a veil will fly up in the wind,
Splashing in rainbow rays...
That starry flickering distance,
Falls into darkness again.

We sail on the Seine among the lights ...

My love is even stronger?!

Give me Paris

Give me Paris
and "Violet of Montmartre",
fantastic air
in the capital of love...
Tuileries scent,
triumphal arch,
Parc Monceau, where it's fresh
and the nightingales sing.

Give me Paris
Modeliani, Lautrec,
On the Boulevard Clichy
the house where Picasso lived...
Notre Dame de Paris
and the pearl of the century -
The Louvre where they got married
to the throne of kings.

Give me Paris
Moulin Rouge Cabaret,
In the lost streets
lantern light...
And in the cafe Saint-Louis
romantic dinner,
on which me
you call yours.

Falling leaves again in Paris

Falling leaves again in Paris
Autumn is circling over the Seine again...
Ripe chestnuts fly
And the whisper of palm trees, and the smell of roses.

I return again and again
To the places where you and I married,
Having pushed, autumn love,
Dancing in curly gold.

Pont Saint-Louis and Notre-Dame
Burning in the fire of magical colors ...
Place Dauphine, Place Vert-Galane
In the charm of old fairy tales.

Everything, like last October,
Repeating everything step by step
I go to you in love
Where you are waiting for me, I know.

Wandering along the Seine

Wandering along the Seine
Fresh air, lights...
Here is young Heine
He wrote poems until dawn.

Picasso is here
"A glass of absinthe" painted ...
Alfred Dusso,
Having caught luck, rejoiced.

Everywhere shadows
Legends of culture and arts...
Parisian genius
Always gave the talent of feelings.

And inspired
Thinking about sadness Sagan ...
And conjured
Above the dresses of Paco Raban.

Cafe Prokop,
Where did Voltaire sit with Diderot,
Among the centuries
It crumbled like silver.

Now along the Seine
Placers of cafes everywhere -
Glass of absinthe
They are served with canapes.

Don't ask me to tell you about Paris

How can I convey the aroma
Nina Ricci Love Kiss
And Van Gogh's red sunset?

The charm of women from the paintings of Renoir,
The thrill of the windmills from the landscapes...
The freshness of the Seine in the canvases of Bernard
And the color of the roses on the Parisian window?

Don't ask me to tell you about Paris -
No one knows the secret dreams
What do tiled roofs hold?
In the gray ashes of burning stars.

Under the dreamy sky of Balmont,
In the colors of sensual Picasso
Admire in the rays of gilding
Naughty Parisian face.

Eternal Paris

The smell of Paris, a magical evening...
Holiday, lights, long-awaited meetings.

Joy on faces, Christmas frost,
Smells like cinnamon, lavender, wormwood...

Christmas tree, pistachios, fresh pine ...
God's love and earthly passion.

The air is filled with Heine's sonnets,
And Delilah with delightful singing.

Showcases play with fairy tales of childhood...
Van Gogh's live paintings are everywhere.

Roses bloomed again in the Tuileries...
Eternal Paris! Best City land!

I'm walking through sleepy Paris

I'm walking through sleepy Paris...
Yellow maple disturbs the silence...
The spicy air of the night breathes with will
And intoxicates the sad moon.

On a chestnut tree that lost its candles
The fruit is ripening, burning in the fire...
On the boulevard Saint-Michel towards
You rush excited to me.

How many centuries we have not seen each other
A day is like a year, and a month is like a century...
The found children embraced,
Two grains of sand in the flood of rivers.

With a light breeze fly maples,
Rustling gold underfoot...
About Paris - the city of lovers,
A lonely soul prays.

Dreams of Paris

Paris is burning in a crimson dream,
Sparkling festive...
And you dreamed of me again
Above the Tuileries next to me.

We fly hand in hand
Over the Champs Elysees
Fountains with blue light
Sparkling, entwined with flowers.

Music is heard everywhere...
Perhaps Jacques Offenbach -
She is so amazing
That even makes me want to cry.

And we are with you love rushes
To the ice rink on the Eiffel Tower
And circles among the blue ice
Our miserly reflection.

But my dream is broken
And there is no Parisian panorama.
The bell ringing subsides
Above the domes of Notre Dame...

Oh, how magical these dreams
In which we are together in Paris ...
And you wake up - from the darkness
Moscow breathes smoky frost...

And sadness creeps into my bed,
And loneliness with chills...
When will he call again
Love, which both live?

You know, it smells like Paris!

You know, it smells like Paris!
Mist gray from the Pantheon,
Chestnuts, a bouquet of rum
And the tiles of the ancient roofs...

Parisian light and fire
Some special holiday...
It smells of almonds and baking,
And a cherished dream come true!

You know, it smells like Paris!
It smells of lily of the valley and roses,
Great painting, prose...
Desires that cannot be quenched.

Parisian air like a dream
And he is passionate, and serene ...
Spirits, fashion and hope
Painted in all colors.

You know, it smells like Paris!
Holy memory of the fallen...
And the Russian tears of those who mourn
Above the snow-white stone niches.

Only cities smell like this
Who don't forget
Where one day they come
To never leave.

Paris rain

Parisian rain comes from the south
A wet rose rustles ...
Kisses my lips eagerly
And the sad heart intoxicates.

Sparkling drops in the eyelashes,
Caresses feet under an umbrella...
Flies like an anxious bird
Under Notre Dame, a booming sound.

Oh, how much tender confusion
In the eyes of passers-by and flowers...
Rain pours inspiration
On bridges a line of verses.

My destiny seems to be sinking
In the stream of festive laughing ...
Perhaps my torment will be washed away
His mysterious power.

The bells are ringing stubbornly
Merging with the music of the rain...
And on the threshold of Notre Dame
My soul is wet.

paris light

Parisian light ... Oh, how it beckons
Magic magic of flowers -
That, without being ashamed, will look into the eyes,
It will secretly throw a spark into the blood.

That timidly hides in the fog,
Glittering with streams of rain ...
Then suddenly drown in the ocean
And retreat again, slipping into the distance.

Parisian light plays with shadows
Like a wizard in wonderland
That sun will blind in an instant,
It will flash like lightning from heaven.

Then a veil will fly up in the wind,
Splashing in rainbow rays...
That starry flickering distance,
Falls into darkness again.

It's night in Paris... Together with you
We sail on the Seine among the lights ...
You know that in the Parisian light
My love is even stronger?!

Same thing in Montmartre

Same in Montmartre
like last spring
exhibiting landscapes,
selling love...
Only the north wind
the hill blows through -
Like the church of Saint-Pierre
caresses instead of mills.

Same in Montmartre
like last summer
Just no lavender
lilac...
Zucchini and coffee houses,
souvenirs, chestnuts,
Notre Dame de Paris
and French mysteries.

Same in Montmartre
like last fall
Only instead of rain
Wet snow is carried by the wind...
Maybe we'll meet
you left me an address -
At the love wall
that in Abbes Square.

Paris... Paris... free air

Magic city worth a mass
And the tears that I cried
Wandering through the autumn yellow forest
And the sadness of sweet grief.

Paris... Paris... you're dreaming again
Calling to ancient shores...
On Saint-Louis, which is embroidered with a fairy tale,
And on the Cité, where Notre Dame is.

And on Lebyazhye we are with our beloved
Dawn met over the Seine
And Swan Island sang to us
About loyalty, which is not.

On Jatt we wandered in the parks with him,
That they brought us to the temple of Love...
At St. Maarten they met the sunset,
They walked along the bridge in an embrace.

Paris... Paris... freedom of the air...
Memories of sweet trembling...
Lies in your distant waters
Luckily thrown brooch.

In the arms of a stranger

Paris, around the lights, lights

I remember the first snow in Paris

I remember - the first snow in Paris
Spinning white silver...
You kissed me shameless
On Saint-Michel under the lamppost.

Around the chestnuts were still ripe,
The palm green light streamed...
And the yellow maples flew
Leaving a mark on roses.

Everything was mixed up that day -
Flowers, autumn smoke and snow...
And the secret was breathing around,
And the feeling that is stronger than all.

Here Paul Verlaine once with the Muse
Walked and, apparently, loved.
What a blessing for a Frenchman
When the boulevard floated in the snow...

Paris, as if in a cradle
Brocade quietly fell asleep ....
And the yellow maples flew
Lying down on the white fluff of mirrors.

Paris... I dream about it at night

Paris... I dream about it at night
How we both walk in it,
spellbound by the eyes
Lights blazing with fire.

Under colorful tents
Autumn beauty Manso,
And under the rainy winds
What blow us in the face.

Snow falls on the glitter of Montmartre,
To the Champs Elysees...
Perhaps you will call tomorrow
And my sadness will vanish.

In your words that I will hear
In which silence trembles,
I will feel the spirit of Paris
And that I need you.

I dreamed of Paris...

I dreamed of Paris
City of happiness, dreams and freedom.
Again and again me a memory
Returns there at night
Where are the couples in love
Meet the sunrises by the Seine,
And to the station d "Orsay
The trains are not coming.

Lace Notre Dame
Chimeras dispassionately crown.
In the Luxembourg Garden
Jasmine and lilac bloom.
Smells like Latin Quarter coffee
Where I was happy without measure.
And meets Mont Martre
Birdsong tomorrow.

Here partings are bright,
Well, meetings are easy and beautiful.
Here is the charming voice of Piaf
It burns your heart with passion.
Here, seeing Paris, to die -
It will not seem like a sacrifice in vain.
Die without seeing
Will turn into a mockery of the Creator ...

Parisian spring

You can't confuse the Parisian spring
Never with another spring -
Here in March you don't feel your age...
In April, young again.

And this May meets with charm,
With such an unearthly caress, -
As if youth breathes freshness
And takes him away again.

Blooming chestnuts and acacias
In cherry blossom gardens,
And with amazing grace
Love is walking along the pavement.

The rain is drizzling and the evening is gloomy
But it has so much warmth...
And I'm in the Marais among the narrow streets
medieval beauty,

What is married with the revival
Palace architecture...
There are museums with an eternal secret -
Carnival and Picasso.

Ancient luxury enchants the soul,
And simplicity inspires...
Parisian spring time
Like a sweet kiss on the mouth.

But the stagecoach of history rushes
From the narrow streets of the Marais,
And I follow the allegory
Rue Saint-Honoré.

Oh, how beautiful this street
How wide and how bright...
I'm afraid that my head will spin -
I'll go to the Maison du Chocolat.

In the park of Montsouris

I'm burned from the inside
By betrayal and deceit
Today in Montsouris park
I heal my wounds.

Alleys and rows of flowers
In the south of heavenly Paris
Spread joy and love
And my heart breathes again.

Rosaries and lakes
Hills, streams, waterfalls...
unfading islets,
Where are the herons, ducks, turtles.

English style reigns here,
The nineteenth century wanders...
Baron Osman invested in it
The spirit that still lingers.

Landscapes are magical
And the scent of hyacinths...
I forget my age
And the pain that once burned me.

Paris, Paris! You beckon again

Paris, Paris! You beckon again
With its mysterious fire...
Then you melt in the sparkling rain,
It's like drinking bliss in it.

Your silver rain washes away
I'm tired, someone's lie...
And music plays in the heart
When you sail over the Seine.

I walk along Vivienne street,
Where fashion stores darkness ...
And I breathe joyful air
Or maybe I'm going crazy...

From the Moulin Rouge and from Montmartre,
From the scents of rue Cambon...
I should be at the Pompidou tomorrow
And Notre Dame calls to his House.

Still to get to Provence,
Where a glass of Bordeaux awaits me -
Woven moments of happiness
From the ancient cellars of the Chateau.

Paris, Paris! You beckon again
And break my sadness...
Kiss and deceive again
And I'll wake up again in Moscow.

June in Paris

June, Paris is flooded with rays,
Blooming boulevards and gardens...
Walking through the long nights
Through the old streets of dreams.

The whole city is full of music
As if the sea has spilled...
Mixed with the bell ringing
Generates tremulous passion.

At Saint Germain des Pres souqs
And fairs reign from spring...
There are performances and goods,
And the atmosphere of old.

Premieres at the Grand Opera again,
In the Chatelet, ballet and fairy tale plays...
And here is the monument to Molière,
That he stood near the Comédie Francaise.

June, Paris is flooded with candles,
Along the Seine is an island of flowers...
I walk long nights
Through the streets of sweet dreams.

July day in Paris

July day, Paris in languor,
The Mill of Montmartre sighs...
And even roses on the balcony
The forecast is coolly awaited for tomorrow.

Paris is shrouded in passionate heat,
It burns, sparkling with a hot light ...
And suddenly a thunderstorm ... with a rolling howl
And the long-awaited fresh wind.

Grand Opera revived again
The ancient Louvre spread its wings...
The tent of clouds opened,
And the rain poured down, embarrassed, nervous.

Watered the Tuileries Garden, Montsouris
And Butte Chaumont with the Bois de Boulogne....
And now the sky is azure again,
And they went out, who was under a canopy.

Oh how Paris smells sweet
Jasmine and mountain lavender...
In a thunderstorm, like a rose, blooms
Land of love, proud freedom.

Let's sit like before

Let's sit like before
In a favorite tavern on the Seine...
Look out the window at the rain
On yellow autumn leaves.

Let's walk the Place de la Madeleine,
Along the Tuileries and to the walls of the Louvre...
And we will fall into a luxurious captivity
Great world culture.

Tired of eternal beauty
The Palais Royal will meet us at midnight...
Let's give each other dreams
Love and everything in the world.

While we are still burning with you
Beautiful autumn glow...
Let's sit like before
In a favorite pub on the Seine.

Paris attracts, but at home it's sweeter

Paris attracts, but at home it's sweeter...
My Moscow is my amulet...
Your capital, maybe more beautiful,
But I am a stranger to her forever.

My love is stronger than the wind
What blows in the Buttes-Chaumont park -
But I have a different faith
Yes, and in Moscow my home.

De la Villette is too beautiful
But I prefer Sokolniki
Not exotic Parisian,
Not colorful lanterns ...

In their alleys my youth
Lilac plucked in hot May ...
Don't be offended that you're back
From Buttes Chaumont to your humble Paradise.

And for dessert, some amazing photos of the city of Paris.

Paris is so full of various historical, literary, cultural and other events and legends that there are masses of quotes and aphorisms about it. Here are some of them, where we will try to understand their meaning and adventure.

“See Paris and die” - originally used since the time of the Roman Empire by the inhabitants of Naples - “ Vedi Napoli e poi muori-!” (See Naples and die). This meant that Naples is so beautiful city that once you see it, everything else does not matter anymore and you can die in peace. This expression was used by Goethe in his memoirs of a trip to Italy 1786-1787. But the phrase “See Paris and die” is more modern, it is used after the release of the Russian film of the same name in 1992.

“Flying like plywood over Paris” means missing a chance, missing an opportunity. In French there is no such expression, especially about plywood. The word "plywood" can be similar to french verb“flaner”, which means “to wander”, “to laze around”, “to loiter”. Another option may come from the name of the pilot Fournier, who in 1909, flying over Paris, crashed into the Eiffel Tower and died.

“Paris is Paris” or “Paris will always be Paris”. There are so many interesting and original things in Paris that makes this city special and unforgettable. Even the French singer Zaz created a song with this aphorism.

Ukrainian artist Maria Bashkirtseva wrote very nicely in her diary visiting this city for the first time: “Paris is life, and life is Paris”. And the phrase “Paris is a holiday that is always with you” (a moveable feast) belongs to Ernest Hemingway, who called this collection of short stories, where he describes his life in Paris between the two wars. The period is called the crazy years (“années folles”).

“In the rain, Paris blooms like a gray rose,” this phrase belongs to Maximilian Voloshin, a native of Ukraine. Indeed, there are relatively few trees and gray houses in Paris. All this creates a special sad and at the same time beautiful atmosphere.

“Paris is the furthest place from paradise on earth” is the saying of the 20th century Romanian philosopher Cioran. Despite his pessimism, he lived most of his life in exile in Paris.

And the famous French photographer Robert Doisneau said that "Paris is a theater where we pay for a place with lost time."

And here is how the actor and writer Sacha Guitry describes this city: “When in Paris we meet a woman on the street and look at her, we seem to be committing treason. When we look at a French woman and she looks at us, it's like the beginning love story". The author means that Parisians are not used to looking at passers-by and it is very difficult to meet them on the street. About relations in Paris, Jules Barbe d’Oreilly wrote very subtly in the 19th century: “When in Paris God creates beautiful woman, the devil immediately creates a fool to contain her.”

“Conquer Paris” means to become famous in different circles, because Paris is very busy cultural life. “It seems to us that we kiss the whole of France on the lips when they love us in Paris,” they said about famous people in the 19th century. Writers, poets, musicians and composers came from the provinces to Paris to find publishers, listeners, admirers. Hence the phrase "poets are born in the provinces to die in Paris." This is true - you just have to look at the number famous poets buried in the cemeteries of Père Lachaise, Picpus, Saint-Vincent, Montmartre and Montparnasse.