Summary

Portrait of Honoré de Balzac Honoré de Balzac A Street of Paris and Its Inhabitant

Now, if you have divined the torso and the powerful back, you will know the sweet tempered face, somewhat pale, the blue ecstatic eyes and the inquisitive nose of that good old man, when you learn that, in the morning, wearing a silk head kerchief and tightened in a dressing-gown, the illustrious professor—he is a professor—resembled an old woman so much that a young man who came from the depths of Saxony, of Weimar, or of Prussia, expressly to see him, said to him, "Forgive me, Madame!"
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Honoré de Balzac Honoré de Balzac A Street of Paris and Its Inhabitant

Curiosity makes one lose more time in Paris than anywhere else.
How may one walk without looking at those little oblong boxes, wide as the stones of the parapet, that all along the quays stimulate book lovers with posters saying, "Four Sous—Six Sous—Ten Sous—Twelve Sous—Thirty Sous?" These catacombs of glory have devoured many hours that belonged to the poets, to the philosophers and to the men of science of Paris.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Honoré de Balzac Honoré de Balzac A Street of Paris and Its Inhabitant

You can judge of the rest."
"Oh, Monsieur, is it possible?" asked Madame Adolphe with an indignant air.
"I have cornered Sinard!" exclaimed M. Marmus triumphantly.
"Oh, he would let himself die!" exclaimed Madame Adolphe.
"Get something for him to eat," said Madame Marmus. "He would let himself do anything. Ah, my good Madame Adolphe, a man of science, you see, is a man who knows nothing—of life."
Source: Gutenberg

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