Word: mes
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...that I should stab him in the chest with my carving skewer? Ha! Nom de Dieu! Standing at his filthy sink, he declared that my sauces stink, that they engender colic in delicate stomachs. My sauces! Sacre bleu! The pride of my cuisine. The pride of France. . . . "Mes amis, the sensibilities, the temperament of a great chef cannot be thus baited with impunity! Blood swam before my eyes. ... I skewered him it is true. . . . Next day he died at the hospital. . . . But it was to avenge my art, my sauces, my honor...
Enigmatically he smiled at them: "No one shall ever know what I do now, mes amis...
...merveilleuse! C'est toute pour moi, mes amis. . . . But he has locked it up with his will. Que voulez-vous? He refuses to let it be produced while he lives. . . . Ah! The most wonderful old man in France! . . .He said to me: 'I have had the most beautiful love affairs it ever befell any man to experience. That is why when I am in the country I insist that not even important telegrams be forwarded to me. Before I die I must have a little quiet to remember my happy youth...
Raconteurs, dwelling upon the personality of M. Bérenger, recalled that a Washington correspondent once asked the 58-year-old Senator to name his favorite form of sport or exercise. Came the short-clipped answer: "L'escrime, la natation!* Mais, mes distractions sont les voyages, la lecture et la promenade...
Thomas Hardy, famed novelist, celebrated his 85th birthday quietly at his home, Max Gate, in Dorchester. He received hundreds of congratulatory mes sages...