Chapter

 1 Int |         to a friend: “I am always thinking of my poor Flaubert, and
 2 Int |          me,” he said, “when I am thinking it out, and not when I am
 3 Int |        joyful heart. Who can say? Thinking becomes an abominable torture
 4 Int |          see it as I watch myself thinking, discovering, and developing
 5 III |         perhaps because they were thinking of each other. The rising
 6 III |        the boat. They were hardly thinking, but simply gazing vaguely,
 7 III |            But she made no reply, thinking to herself:~“How often I
 8 IV  |           was doing, mechanically thinking of one thing by mistake
 9 IV  |          indifferent tone without thinking:~“Yes, Aunt Lison is looking
10 IV  |            looked at him, but was thinking of a thousand things that
11 V   |         seemed absurd to him, and thinking only of the bad road, he
12 VI  |         there, dreaming, scarcely thinking, depressed to the very soul,
13 VI  |           as if, after constantly thinking of those one loves, when
14 VI  |           Marius had disappeared. Thinking he was off duty until evening,
15 VII |             Still no sound. Then, thinking she might have left the
16 VII |           our doors. What are you thinking of? You must be crazy!”~
17 VII |       breathing, not knowing, not thinking of anything. She suddenly
18 VII |   remained taciturn and reserved, thinking over matters. The third
19 VII |          not sleep that night for thinking of the new life that was
20 IX  |         which did not necessitate thinking.~One morning as she was
21 X   |          you saying? What are you thinking of? I swear to you—I swear
22 XI  |         years.”~They were silent, thinking over the past. At length
23 XIII|     daybreak. As she ate, she was thinking sadly of a thousand things,
24 XIII|          She noticed it and fled, thinking that they were doubtless
25 XIV | motionless, gazing into the fire, thinking of nothing in particular.