ETEXT editor’s bookmarks for the red lily, entire: 

     A woman is frank when she does not lie uselessly
     A hero must be human.  Napoleon was human
     Anti-Semitism is making fearful progress everywhere
     Brilliancy of a fortune too new
     Curious to know her face of that day
     Disappointed her to escape the danger she had feared
     Do you think that people have not talked about us? 
     Does not wish one to treat it with either timidity or brutality
     Does one ever possess what one loves? 
     Each had regained freedom, but he did not like to be alone
     Each was moved with self-pity
     Everybody knows about that
     Fringe which makes an unlovely border to the city
     Gave value to her affability by not squandering it
     He could not imagine that often words are the same as actions
     He studied until the last moment
     He is not intelligent enough to doubt
     He does not bear ill-will to those whom he persecutes
     He knew now the divine malady of love
     Her husband had become quite bearable
     His habit of pleasing had prolonged his youth
     (Housemaid) is trained to respect my disorder
     I love myself because you love me
     I can forget you only when I am with you
     I wished to spoil our past
     I feel in them (churches) the grandeur of nothingness
     I have to pay for the happiness you give me
     I gave myself to him because he loved me
     I haven’t a taste, I have tastes
     I have known things which I know no more
     I do not desire your friendship
     Ideas they think superior to love—­faith, habits, interests
     Immobility of time
     Impatient at praise which was not destined for himself
     Incapable of conceiving that one might talk without an object
     It was torture for her not to be able to rejoin him
     It is an error to be in the right too soon
     It was too late:  she did not wish to win
     Jealous without having the right to be jealous
     Kissses and caresses are the effort of a delightful despair
     Knew that life is not worth so much anxiety nor so much hope
     Laughing in every wrinkle of his face
     Learn to live without desire
     Let us give to men irony and pity as witnesses and judges
     Life as a whole is too vast and too remote
     Life is made up of just such trifles
     Life is not a great thing
     Little that we can do when we are powerful
     Love is a soft and terrible force, more powerful than beauty
     Love was only a brief intoxication
     Lovers never separate kindly
     Made life give all it could yield
     Magnificent air of those beggars of whom small towns are proud
     Miserable beings who contribute to the grandeur of the past