My French is still good. That's a beautiful language and I'm happy to speak it.
I'd like to learn French well enough to write in that language.
I read French much better than I speak.
I am attracted by almost any French word - written or spoken. Before I knew its meaning, I thought 'saucisson' so exquisite that it seemed the perfect name to give a child - until I learned it meant 'sausage!'
With a very few exceptions, every word in the French vocabulary comes straight from the Latin.
French is a language that makes those who speak it both calm and dynamic.
I've been learning French a bit through my work with Longchamp, and I've been in France quite a lot. And I really love how they express themselves. I especially love when something is untranslatable.
I am attached to the French language. I will defend the ubiquitous use of French.
As for the French language, it's probably one of the most beautiful in the world. I speak a little bit and I can follow conversations, but I think it will take time to improve myself.
The genius of the French language, descended from its single Latin stock, has triumphed most in the contrary direction - in simplicity, in unity, in clarity, and in restraint.
I work, play and do everything in French.
Boy, those French: they have a different word for everything!
For me, French is so rich and so sacred that learning it is like learning a foreign language.
Well, with the French language, which I understood and spoke, however imperfectly, and read in great quantities, at certain times, the matter I suppose was slightly different from either Latin or Greek.
I've never really spoken French. I didn't do French lessons at school, so I'm starting from scratch.
I never dream in French, but certain French words seem better or more fun than English words - like 'pois chiches' for chick peas!
By the way, the secret of speaking French is confidence. Whether you are right or wrong, you don't hesitate.
It is a curious fact that the word 'essayist' showed up in English before it existed in French.