{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_3661/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_3661","id":"gutenberg_3661","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3661","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Project Gutenberg","Quotations"],"text":"Ver.06/12/01*END*[Portions of this header are copyright (C) 2001 by Michael S. Hart\nand may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.]\n[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales\nof Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or\nsoftware or any other related product without express permission.]\n\n\n\n\n\nThis etext was produced by David Widger  <widger@cecomet.net>\n\n\n\n\n\nWIDGER'S QUOTATIONS\n\nFROM THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EDITION OF\nTHE ESSAYS OF MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE\n\n\n\n\n\n                              EDITOR'S NOTE\n\nReaders acquainted with the Writings of Michel de Montaigne may wish to\nsee if their favorite passages are listed in this selection.  The etext\neditor will be glad to add your suggestions.  One of the advantages of\ninternet over paper publication is the ease of quick revision.\n\nAll the titles  may be found using the Project Gutenberg search engine\nat:\n                   http://promo.net/pg/\n\nAfter downloading a specific file, the location and complete context of\nthe quotations may be found by inserting a small part of the quotation\ninto the 'Find' or 'Search' functions of the user's word processing\nprogram.\n\nThe quotations are in two formats:\n     1. Small passages from the text.\n     2. Lists of alphabetized one-liners.\n\nThe editor may be contacted at <widger@cecomet.net> for comments,\nquestions or suggested additions to these extracts.\n\nD.W.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS:\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V01, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#01][mn01v10.txt]3581\nTHE LIFE OF MONTAIGNE\nTHE LETTERS OF MONTAIGNE\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V02, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#02][mn02v10.txt]3582\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. I. to XII.\nI.        That Men by Various Ways Arrive at the Same End.\nII.       Of Sorrow.\nIII.      That our affections carry themselves beyond us .\nIV.       That the soul discharges her passions upon false objects, where\n          the true are wanting.\nV.        Whether the governor of a place besieged ought himself to go\n          out to parley.\nVI.       That the hour of parley is dangerous.\nVII.      That the intention is judge of our actions.\nVIII.     Of idleness.\nIX.       Of liars.\nX.        Of quick or slow speech.\nXI.       Of prognostications.\nXII.      Of constancy.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V03, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#03][mn03v10.txt]3583\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. XIII. to  XXI.\nXIII.     The ceremony of the interview of princes.\nXIV.      That men are justly punished for being obstinate in the defence\n          of a fort.\nXV.       Of the punishment of cowardice.\nXVI.      A proceeding of some ambassadors.\nXVII.     Of fear.\nXVIII.    That men are not to judge of our happiness till after death.\nXIX.      That to study philosophy is to learn to die.\nXX.       Of the force of imagination.\nXXI.      That the profit of one man is the damage of another.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V04, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#04][mn04v10.txt]3584\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. XXII. to  XXIV.\nXXII.     Of custom, and that we should not easily change a law received\nXXIII.    Various events from the same counsel.\nXXIV.     Of pedantry.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V05, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#05][mn05v10.txt]3585\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. XXV. to  XXVI.\nXXV.      Of the education of children.\nXXVI.     That it is folly to measure truth and error by our own\n          capacity.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V06, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#06][mn06v10.txt]3586\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. XXVII. to  XXXVIII.\nXXVII.    Of friendship.\nXXVIII.   Nine-and-twenty sonnets of Estienne de la Boetie.\nXXIX.     Of moderation.\nXXX.      Of cannibals.\nXXXI.     That a man is soberly to judge of the divine ordinances.\nXXXII.    That we are to avoid pleasures, even at the expense of life.\nXXXIII.   That fortune is oftentimes observed to act by the rule of\n          reason.\nXXXIV.    Of one defect in our government.\nXXXV.     Of the custom of wearing clothes.\nXXXVI.    Of Cato the Younger.\nXXXVII.   That we laugh and cry for the same thing.\nXXXVIII.  Of solitude.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V07, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#07][mn07v10.txt]3587\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. XXXIX. to  XLVII.\nXXXIX.    A consideration upon Cicero.\nXL.       That the relish of good and evil depends in a great measure\n          upon opinion.\nXLI.      Not to communicate a man's honour.\nXLII.     Of the inequality amongst us.\nXLIII.    Of sumptuary laws.\nXLIV.     Of sleep.\nXLV.      Of the battle of Dreux.\nXLVI.     Of names.\nXLVII.    Of the uncertainty of our judgment.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V08, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#08][mn08v10.txt]3588\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. XLVIII. to  LVII.\nXLVIII.   Of war-horses, or destriers.\nXLIX.     Of ancient customs.\nL.        Of Democritus and Heraclitus.\nLI.       Of the vanity of words.\nLII.      Of the parsimony of the Ancients.\nLIII.     Of a saying of Caesar.\nLIV.      Of vain subtleties.\nLV.       Of smells.\nLVI.      Of prayers.\nLVII.     Of age.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V09, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#09][mn09v10.txt]3589\nBOOK THE SECOND.--CHAP. I. to  VI.\nI.        Of the inconstancy of our actions.\nII.       Of drunkenness.\nIII.      A custom of the Isle of Cea.\nIV.       To-morrow's a new day.\nV.        Of conscience.\nVI.       Use makes perfect.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V10, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#10][mn10v10.txt]3590\nBOOK THE SECOND.--CHAP. VII.  to  XII.\nVII.      Of recompenses of honour.\nVIII.     Of the affection of fathers to their children.\nIX.       Of the arms of the Parthians.\nX.        Of books.\nXI.       Of cruelty.\nXII.\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V11, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#11][mn11v10.txt]3591\nBOOK THE SECOND.--CHAP. XIII. to  XVII.\nXIII.     Of judging of the death of another.\nXIV.      That the mind hinders itself.\nXV.       That our desires are augmented by difficulty.\nXVI.      Of glory.\nXVII.     Of presumption.\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V12, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#12][mn12v10.txt]3592\nBOOK THE SECOND.--CHAP. XVIII. to  XXXI.\nXVIII.    Of giving the lie.\nXIX.      Of liberty of conscience.\nXX.       That we taste nothing pure.\nXXI.      Against idleness.\nXXII.     Of Posting.\nXXIII.    Of ill means employed to a good end.\nXXIV.     Of the Roman grandeur.\nXXV.      Not to counterfeit being sick.\nXXVI.     Of thumbs.\nXXVII.    Cowardice the mother of cruelty.\nXXVIII.   All things have their season.\nXXIX.     Of virtue.\nXXX.      Of a monstrous child.\nXXXI.     Of anger.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V13, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#13][mn13v10.txt]3593\nBOOK THE SECOND.--CHAP. XXXII. to  XXXVII.\nXXXII.    Defence of Seneca and Plutarch.\nXXXIII.   The story of Spurina.\nXXXIV.    Observation on the means to carry on a war according to Julius\n          Caesar.\nXXXV.     Of three good women.\nXXXVI.    Of the most excellent men.\nXXXVII.   Of the resemblance of children to their fathers.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V14, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#14][mn14v10.txt]3594\nBOOK THE THIRD.--CHAP. I. to  IV.\nI.        Of Profit and Honesty.\nII.       Of Repentance.\nIII.      Of Three Commerces.\nIV.       Of Diversion.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V15, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#15][mn15v10.txt]3595\nBOOK THE THIRD.--CHAP. V.\nV.        Upon Some verses of Virgil.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V16, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#16][mn16v10.txt]3596\nBOOK THE THIRD.--CHAP. VI. to  VIII.\nVI.       Of Coaches.\nVII.      Of the Inconvenience of Greatness.\nVIII.     Of the Art of Conference.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V17, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#17][mn17v10.txt]3597\nBOOK THE THIRD.--CHAP. IX.\nIX.       Of Vanity.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V18, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#18][mn18v10.txt]3598\nBOOK THE THIRD.--CHAP. X. to  XII.\nX.        Of Managing the Will.\nXI.       Of Cripples.\nXII.      Of Physiognomy.\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V19, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#19][mn19v10.txt]3599\nBOOK THE THIRD.--CHAP. XIII.\nXIII.     Of Experience.\n\n\nDec 2002 The Complete Essays of Montaigne, Cotton\n[MN#20][mn20v10.txt]3600\nEntire Project Gutenberg Montaigne Letters and Essays ed. 1877\n\nBOOK THE FIRST:\nI.      That men by various ways arrive at the same end.\nII.     Of Sorrow.\nIII.    That our affections carry themselves beyond us .\nIV.     That the soul discharges her passions upon false objects, where\n        the true are wanting.\nV.      Whether the governor of a place besieged ought himself to go out\n        to parley.\nVI.     That the hour of parley is dangerous.\nVII.    That the intention is judge of our actions\nVIII.   Of idleness.\nIX.     Of liars.\nX.      Of quick or slow speech.\nXI.     Of prognostications.\nXII.    Of constancy.\nXIII.   The ceremony of the interview of princes.\nXIV.    That men are justly punished for being obstinate in the defence\n        of a fort that is not in reason to be defended.\nXV.     Of the punishment of cowardice.\nXVI.    A proceeding of some ambassadors.\nXVII.   Of fear.\nXVIII.  That men are not to judge of our happiness till after death.\nXIX.    That to study philosophy is to learn to die.\nXX.     Of the force of imagination.\nXXI.    That the profit of one man is the damage of another.\nXXII.   Of custom, and that we should not easily change a law received .\nXXIII.  Various events from the same counsel.\nXXIV.   Of pedantry.\nXXV.    Of the education of children.\nXXVI.   That it is folly to measure truth and error by our own capacity.\nXXVII.  Of friendship.\nXXVIII. Nine-and-twenty sonnets of Estienne de la Boetie.\nXXIX.   Of moderation.\nXXX.    Of cannibals,\nXXXI.   That a man is soberly to judge of the divine ordinances.\nXXXII.  That we are to avoid pleasures, even at the expense of\n        life.\nXXXIII. That fortune is oftentimes observed to act by the rule of reason.\nXXXIV.  Of one defect in our government.\nXXXV.   Of the custom of wearing clothes\nXXXVI.  Of Cato the Younger.\nXXXVII. That we laugh and cry for the same thing.\nXXXVIII.Of solitude.\nXXXIX.  A consideration upon Cicero,\nXL.     That the relish of good and evil depends in a great measure upon\n        the opinion we have of them.\nXLI.    Not to communicate a man's honour.\nXLII.   Of the inequality amongst us.\nXLIII.  Of sumptuary laws.\nXLIV.   Of sleep.\nXLV.    Of the battle of Dreux.\nXLVI.   Of names.\nXLVII.  Of the uncertainty of our judgment.\nXLVIII. Of war-horses, or destriers.\nXLIX.   Of ancient customs.\nL.      Of Democritus and Heraclitus.\nLI.     Of the vanity of words.\nLII.    Of the parsimony of the Ancients.\nLIII.   Of a saying of Caesar.\nLIV.    Of vain subtleties.\nLV.     Of smells.\nLVI.    Of prayers.\nLVII.   Of age.\n\nBOOK THE SECOND:\nI.        Of the inconstancy of our actions.\nII.       Of drunkenness.\nIII.      A custom of the Isle of Cea.\nIV.       To-morrow's a new day.\nV.        Of conscience.\nVI.       Use makes perfect.\nVII.      Of recompenses of honour.\nVIII.     Of the affection of fathers to their children.\nIX.       Of the arms of the Parthians.\nX.        Of books.\nXI.       Of cruelty.\nXII.      Apology for Raimond de Sebonde (Not included)\nXIII.     Of judging of the death of another.\nXIV.      That the mind hinders itself.\nXV.       That our desires are augmented by difficulty.\nXVI.      Of glory.\nXVII.     Of presumption.\nXVIII.    Of giving the lie.\nXIX.      Of liberty of conscience.\nXX.       That we taste nothing pure.\nXXI.      Against idleness.\nXXII.     Of Posting.\nXXIII.    Of ill means employed to a good end.\nXXIV.     Of the Roman grandeur.\nXXV.      Not to counterfeit being sick.\nXXVI.     Of thumbs.\nXXVII.    Cowardice the mother of cruelty.\nXXVIII.   All things have their season.\nXXIX.     Of virtue.\nXXX.      Of a monstrous child.\nXXXI.     Of anger.\nXXXII.    Defence of Seneca and Plutarch.\nXXXIII.   The story of Spurina.\nXXXIV.    Observation on the means to carry on a war according to Julius\n          Caesar.\nXXXV.     Of three good women.\nXXXVI.    Of the most excellent men.\nXXXVII.   Of the resemblance of children to their fathers.\n\nBOOK THE THIRD:\nI.        Of Profit and Honesty.\nII.       Of Repentance.\nIII.      Of Three Commerces.\nIV.       Of Diversion.\nV.        Upon Some verses of Virgil.\nVI.       Of Coaches.\nVII.      Of the Inconvenience of Greatness.\nVIII.     Of the Art of Conference.\nIX.       Of Vanity.\nX.        Of Managing the Will.\nXI.       Of Cripples.\nXII.      Of Physiognomy.\nXIII.     Of Experience.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                           WIDGER'S QUOTATIONS\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V01, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#01][mn01v10.txt]3581\nTHE LIFE OF MONTAIGNE\nTHE LETTERS OF MONTAIGNE\n\nArts of persuasion, to insinuate it into our minds\nHelp: no other effect than that of lengthening my suffering\nJudgment of great things is many times formed from lesser thing\nOption now of continuing in life or of completing the voyage\nTwo principal guiding reins are reward and punishment\nVirtue and ambition, unfortunately, seldom lodge together\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V02, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#02][mn02v10.txt]3582\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. I. to XII.\nI.        That Men by Various Ways Arrive at the Same End.\nII.       Of Sorrow.\nIII.      That our affections carry themselves beyond us .\nIV.       That the soul discharges her passions upon false objects, where\n          the true are wanting.\nV.        Whether the governor of a place besieged ought himself to go\n          out to parley.\nVI.       That the hour of parley is dangerous.\nVII.      That the intention is judge of our actions.\nVIII.     Of idleness.\nIX.       Of liars.\nX.        Of quick or slow speech.\nXI.       Of prognostications.\nXII.      Of constancy.\n\n\n\nAlmanacs\nBeing dead they were then by one day happier than he.\nBooks I read over again, still smile upon me with  fresh novelty\nDeath discharges us of all our obligations\nDifference betwixt memory and understanding\nDo thine own work, and know thyself\nEffect and performance are not at all in our power\nFantastic gibberish of the prophetic canting\nFolly of gaping after future things\nGood to be certain and finite, and evil, infinite and uncertain\nHe who lives everywhere, lives nowhere\nIf they chop upon one truth, that carries a mighty report\nIimpotencies that so unseasonably surprise the lover\nLet it be permitted to the timid to hope\nLight griefs can speak: deep sorrows are dumb\nLook, you who think the gods have no care of human things\nNature of judgment to have it more deliberate and more slow\nNature of wit is to have its operation prompt and sudden\nNor have other tie upon one another, but by our word\nOld men who retain the memory of things past\nPity is reputed a vice amongst the Stoics\nRather complain of ill-fortune than be ashamed of victory\nReverse of truth has a hundred thousand forms\nSay of some compositions that they stink of oil and of the lamp\nSolon, that none can be said to be happy until he is dead\nStrong memory is commonly coupled with infirm judgment\nStumble upon a truth amongst an infinite number of lies\nSuffer those inconveniences which are not possibly to be avoided\nSuperstitiously to seek out in the stars the ancient causes\nTheir pictures are not here who were cast away\nThings I say are better than those I write\nWe are masters of nothing but the will\nWe cannot be bound beyond what we are able to perform\nWhere the lion's skin is too short\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V03, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#03][mn03v10.txt]3583\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. XIII. to  XXI.\nXIII.     The ceremony of the interview of princes.\nXIV.      That men are justly punished for being obstinate in the defence\n          of a fort.\nXV.       Of the punishment of cowardice.\nXVI.      A proceeding of some ambassadors.\nXVII.     Of fear.\nXVIII.    That men are not to judge of our happiness till after death.\nXIX.      That to study philosophy is to learn to die.\nXX.       Of the force of imagination.\nXXI.      That the profit of one man is the damage of another.\n\nAccommodated my subject to my strength\nAffright people with the very mention of death\nAll I aim at is, to pass my time at my ease\nAll think he has yet twenty good years to come\nApprenticeship and a resemblance of death\nBecome a fool by too much wisdom\nBoth himself and his posterity declared ignoble, taxable\nCaesar: he would be thought an excellent engineer to boot\nCourtesy and good manners is a very necessary study\nDangers do, in truth, little or nothing hasten our end\nDeath can, whenever we please, cut short inconveniences\nDeath has us every moment by the throat\nDeath is a part of you\nDenying all solicitation, both of hand and mind\nDid my discourses came only from my mouth or from my heart\nDie well--that is, patiently and tranquilly\nDiscover what there is of good and clean in the bottom of the po\nDownright and sincere obedience\nEvery day travels towards death; the last only arrives at it\nFear is more importunate and insupportable than death itself\nFear to lose a thing, which being lost, cannot be lamented?\nFear: begets a terrible astonishment and confusion\nFeared, lest disgrace should make such delinquents desperate\nGive these young wenches the things they long for\nHave you ever found any who have been dissatisfied with dying?\nHow many more have died before they arrived at thy age\nHow many several ways has death to surprise us?\nHow much more insupportable and painful an immortal life\nI have lived longer by this one day than I should have done\nI take hold of, as little glorious and exemplary as you will\nIf nature do not help a little, it is very hard\nIn this last scene of death, there is no more counterfeiting\nInclination to love one another at the first sight\nIndocile liberty of this member\nInsensible of the stroke when our youth dies in us\nLive at the expense of life itself.\nMuch better to offend him once than myself every day\nNature, who left us in such a state of imperfection\nNeither men nor their lives are measured by the ell\nNo man more certain than another of to-morrow. --Seneca\nNo one can be called happy till he is dead and buried\nNot certain to live till I came home\nNot melancholic, but meditative\nNothing can be a grievance that is but once\nPhilosophy is nothing but to prepare one's self to die\nPremeditation of death is the premeditation of liberty\nProfit made only at the expense of another\nRather prating of another man's province than his own\nSame folly as to be sorry we were not alive a hundred years ago\nSlaves, or exiles, ofttimes live as merrily as other folk\nsome people rude, by being overcivil  in their courtesy\nThe day of your birth is one day's advance towards the grave\nThe deadest deaths are the best\nThe thing in the world I am most afraid of is fear\nThere is no long, nor short, to things that are no more\nThing at which we all aim, even in virtue is pleasure\nThings often appear greater to us at distance than near at hand\nTo study philosophy is nothing but to prepare one's self to die\nUtility of living consists not in the length of days\nValour has its bounds as well as other virtues\nValuing the interest of discipline\nWell, and what if it had been death itself?\nWhat may be done to-morrow, may be done to-day.\nWho would weigh him without the honour and grandeur of his end.\nWillingly slip the collar of command upon any pretence whatever\nWoman who goes to bed to a man, must put off her modesty\nYou must first see us die\nYoung and old die upon the same terms\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V04, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#04][mn04v10.txt]3584\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. XXII. to  XXIV.\nXXII.     Of custom, and that we should not easily change a law received\nXXIII.    Various events from the same counsel.\nXXIV.     Of pedantry.\n\nA parrot would say as much as that\nAgesilaus, what he thought most proper for boys to learn?\nBut it is not enough that our education does not spoil us\nConscience, which we pretend to be derived from nature\nCulling out of several books the sentences that best please me\n\"Custom,\" replied Plato, \"is no little thing\"\nEducation\nExamine, who is better learned, than who is more learned\nFear and distrust invite and draw on offence\nFortune will still be mistress of events\nFox, who found fault with what he could not obtain\nFruits of public commotion are seldom enjoyed\nGave them new and more plausible names for their excuse\nGive me time to recover my strength and health\nGreat presumption to be so fond of one's own opinions\nGross impostures of religions\nHoary head and rivelled face of ancient usage\nHold a stiff rein upon suspicion\nI have a great aversion from a novelty\nKnowledge is not so absolutely necessary as judgment\nLaws do what they can, when they cannot do what they would\nMan can never be wise but by his own wisdom\nMemories are full enough, but the judgment totally void\nMiracles appear to be so, according to our ignorance of nature\nNothing noble can be performed without danger\nOnly set the humours they would purge more violently in work\nOught not to expect much either from his vigilance or power\nOught to withdraw and retire his soul from the crowd\nOver-circumspect and wary prudence is a mortal enemy\nPhysic\nPhysician worse physicked\nPlays of children are not performed in play\nPresent himself with a halter about his neck to the people\nRome was more valiant before she grew so learned\nStudy to declare what is justice, but never took care to do it.\nTestimony of the truth from minds prepossessed by custom?\nThey neither instruct us to think well nor to do well\nThink of physic as much good or ill as any one would have me\nUse veils from us the true aspect of things\nVictorious envied the conquered\nWe only labour to stuff the memory\nWe take other men's knowledge and opinions upon trust\nWeakness and instability of a private and particular fancy\nWhat they ought to do when they come to be men\nWhosoever despises his own life, is always master\nWorse endure an ill-contrived robe than an ill-contrived mind\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V05, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#05][mn05v10.txt]3585\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. XXV. to  XXVI.\nXXV.      Of the education of children.\nXXVI.     That it is folly to measure truth and error by our own\ncapacity.\n\nA child should not be brought up in his mother's lap\nAcquiesce and submit to truth\nAffect words that are not of current use\nAnything appears greatest to him that never knew a greater\nAppetite to read more, than glutted with that we have\nApplaud his judgment than commend his knowledge\nAttribute facility of belief to simplicity and ignorance\nAway with this violence!  away with this compulsion!\nBears well a changed fortune, acting both parts equally well\nBelief compared to the impression of a seal upon the soul\ncloak on one shoulder, my cap on one side, a stocking disordered\nCollege: a real house of correction of imprisoned youth\nDisgorge what we eat in the same condition it was swallowed\nEducation ought to be carried on with a severe sweetness\nEloquence prejudices the subject it would advance\nFear was not that I should do ill, but that I should do nothing\nGlory and curiosity are the scourges of the soul\nHobbes said that if he Had been at college as long as others--\nInquisitive after everything\nInsert whole sections and pages out of ancient authors\nIt is no hard matter to get children\nLearn what it is right to wish\nLeast touch or prick of a pencil in comparison of the whole\nLet him be satisfied with correcting himself\nLet him examine every man's talent\nLight prognostics they give of themselves in their tender years\nLiving well, which of all arts is the greatest\nLodge nothing in his fancy upon simple authority and upon trust\nMan may say too much even upon the best subjects\nMiracle: everything our reason cannot comprehend\nMorosity and melancholic humour of a sour ill-natured pedant\nMothers are too tender\nNegligent garb, which is yet observable amongst the young men\nNobody prognosticated that I should be wicked, but only useless\nNot having been able to pronounce one syllable, which is No.\nO Athenians, what this man says, I will do\nObstinacy and contention are common qualities\nOccasion to La Boetie to write his \"Voluntary Servitude\"\nPhilosophy has discourses proper for childhood\nPhilosophy is that which instructs us to live\nPhilosophy looked upon as a vain and fantastic name\nPreface to bribe the benevolence of the courteous reader\nReading those books, converse with the great and heroic souls\nSilence, therefore, and modesty are very advantageous qualities\nSo many trillions of men, buried before us\nSparing and an husband of his knowledge\nThe conduct of our lives is the true mirror of our doctrine\nThe most manifest sign of wisdom is a continual cheerfulness\nTheir labour is not to delivery, but about conception\nThere is nothing like alluring the appetite and affections\nThey begin to teach us to live when we have almost done living\nThings grow familiar to men's minds by being often seen\nTo condemn them as impossible, is by a temerarious presumption\nTo contemn what we do not comprehend\nTo go a mile out of their way to hook in a fine word\nTo know by rote, is no knowledge\nTongue will grow too stiff to bend\nTotally brutified by an immoderate thirst after knowledge\nUnbecoming rudeness to carp at everything\nUnjust to exact from me what I do not owe\nWhere their profit is, let them there have their pleasure too\nWho by their fondness of some fine sounding word\n\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V06, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#06][mn06v10.txt]3586\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. XXVII. to  XXXVIII.\nXXVII.    Of friendship.\nXXVIII.   Nine-and-twenty sonnets of Estienne de la Boetie.\nXXIX.     Of moderation.\nXXX.      Of cannibals.\nXXXI.     That a man is soberly to judge of the divine ordinances.\nXXXII.    That we are to avoid pleasures, even at the expense of life.\nXXXIII.   That fortune is oftentimes observed to act by the rule of\n          reason.\nXXXIV.    Of one defect in our government.\nXXXV.     Of the custom of wearing clothes.\nXXXVI.    Of Cato the Younger.\nXXXVII.   That we laugh and cry for the same thing.\nXXXVIII.  Of solitude.\n\n\nA man must either imitate the vicious or hate them\nAbhorrence of the patient are necessary circumstances\nAcquire by his writings an immortal life\nAddict thyself to the study of letters\nAlways the perfect religion\nAnd hate him so as you were one day to love him\nArcher that shoots over, misses as much as he that falls short\nArt that could come to the knowledge of but few persons\nBeing over-studious, we impair our health and spoil our humour\nBy the misery of this life, aiming at bliss in another\nCarnal appetites only supported by use and exercise\nComing out of the same hole\nCommon friendships will admit of division\nDost thou, then, old man, collect food for others' ears?\nEither tranquil life, or happy death\nEnslave our own contentment to the power of another\nEntertain us with fables:astrologers and physicians\nEverything has many faces and several aspects\nExtremity of philosophy is hurtful\nFriendships that the law and natural obligation impose upon us\nGewgaw to hang in a cabinet or at the end of the tongue\nGratify the gods and nature by massacre and murder\nHe took himself along with him\nHe will choose to be alone\nHeadache should come before drunkenness\nHigh time to die when there is more ill than good in living\nHonour of valour consists in fighting, not in subduing\nHow uncertain duration these accidental conveniences are\nI bequeath to Areteus the maintenance of my mother\nI for my part always went the plain way to work\nI love temperate and moderate natures\nImpostures: very strangeness lends them credit\nIn solitude, be company for thyself--Tibullus\nIn the meantime, their halves were begging at their doors\nInterdict all gifts betwixt man and wife\nIt is better to die than to live miserable\nJudge by the eye of reason, and not from common report\nKnot is not so sure that a man may not half suspect it will slip\nLascivious poet: Homer\nLaying themselves low to avoid the danger of falling\nLeave society when we can no longer add anything to it\nLittle less trouble in governing a private family than a kingdom\nLove we bear to our wives is very lawful\nMan (must) know that he is his own\nMarriage\nMen should furnish themselves with such things as would float\nMethinks I am no more than half of myself\nMust for the most part entertain ourselves with ourselves\nNever represent things to you simply as they are\nNo effect of virtue, to have stronger arms and legs\nNot in a condition to lend must forbid himself to borrow\nNothing is so firmly believed, as what we least know\nO my friends, there is no friend: Aristotle\nOftentimes agitated with divers passions\nOrdinary friendships, you are to walk with bridle in your hand\nOught not only to have his hands, but his eyes, too, chaste\nOur judgments are yet sick\nPerfect friendship I speak of is indivisible\nPhilosophy\nPhysicians cure by misery and pain.\nPrefer in bed, beauty before goodness\nPretending to find out the cause of every accident\nReputation: most useless, frivolous, and false coin that passes\nReserve a backshop, wholly our own and entirely free\nRest satisfied, without desire of prolongation of life or name\nStilpo lost wife, children, and goods\nStilpo: thank God, nothing was lost of his\nTake two sorts of grist out of the same sack\nTaking things upon trust from vulgar opinion\nTearing a body limb from limb by racks and torments\nThe consequence of common examples\nThere are defeats more triumphant than victories\nThey can neither lend nor give anything to one another\nThey have yet touched nothing of that which is mine\nThey must be very hard to please, if they are not contented\nThings that engage us elsewhere and separate us from ourselves\nThis decay of nature which renders him useless, burdensome\nThis plodding occupation of bookes is as painfull as any other\nThose immodest and debauched tricks and postures\nThough I be engaged to one forme, I do not tie the world unto it\nTitle of barbarism to everything that is not familiar\nTo give a currency to his little pittance of learning\nTo make their private advantage at the public expense\nUnder fortune's favour, to prepare myself for her disgrace\nVice of confining their belief to their own capacity\nWe have lived enough for others\nWe have more curiosity than capacity\nWe still carry our fetters along with us\nWhen time begins to wear things out of memory\nWherever the mind is perplexed, it is in an entire disorder\nWho can  flee from himself\nWise man never loses anything if he have himself\nWise whose invested money is visible in beautiful villas\nWrite what he knows, and as much as he knows, but no more\nYou and your companion are theatre enough to one another\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V07, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#07][mn07v10.txt]3587\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. XXXIX. to  XLVII.\nXXXIX.    A consideration upon Cicero.\nXL.       That the relish of good and evil depends in a great measure\n          upon opinion.\nXLI.      Not to communicate a man's honour.\nXLII.     Of the inequality amongst us.\nXLIII.    Of sumptuary laws.\nXLIV.     Of sleep.\nXLV.      Of the battle of Dreux.\nXLVI.     Of names.\nXLVII.    Of the uncertainty of our judgment.\n\n\"Art thou not ashamed,\" said he to him, \"to sing so well?\"\nAs great a benefit to be without (children)\nAway with that eloquence that enchants us with itself\nBecause the people know so well how to obey\nBlemishes of the great naturally appear greater\nChange is to be feared\nCicero: on fame\nConfidence in another man's virtue\nDangerous  man you have deprived of all means to escape\nDepend as much upon fortune as anything else we do\nFame: an echo, a dream, nay, the shadow of a dream\nFar more easy and pleasant to follow than to lead\nHe who lays the cloth is ever at the charge of the feast\nI honour those most to whom I show the least honour\nIn war not to drive an enemy to despair\nMy words does but injure the love I have conceived within.\nNeither the courage to die nor the heart to live\nNever spoke of my money, but falsely, as others do\nNo great choice betwixt not knowing to speak anything but ill\nNo man continues ill long but by his own fault\nNo necessity upon a man to live in necessity\nNo passion so contagious as that of fear\nNot a victory that puts not an end to the war\nNot want, but rather abundance, that creates avarice\nOnly secure harbour from the storms and tempests of life\nOpinions they have of things and not by the things themselves\nPeople conceiving they have right and title to be judges\nPyrrho's hog\nRepute for value in them, not what they bring to us\nSatisfaction of mind to have only one path to walk in\nThat which cowardice itself has chosen for its refuge\nThe honour we receive from those that fear us is not honour\nThe pedestal is no part of the statue\nThere is more trouble in keeping money than in getting it.\nThere is nothing I hate so much as driving a bargain\nThou wilt not feel it long if thou feelest it too much\nTis the sharpnss of our mind that gives the edge to our pains\nTitles being so dearly bought\nTwenty people prating about him when he is at stool\nValour whetted and enraged by mischance\nWhat can they not do, what do they fear to do (for beauty)\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V08, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#08][mn08v10.txt]3588\nBOOK THE FIRST.--CHAP. XLVIII. to  LVII.\nXLVIII.   Of war-horses, or destriers.\nXLIX.     Of ancient customs.\nL.        Of Democritus and Heraclitus.\nLI.       Of the vanity of words.\nLII.      Of the parsimony of the Ancients.\nLIII.     Of a saying of Caesar.\nLIV.      Of vain subtleties.\nLV.       Of smells.\nLVI.      Of prayers.\nLVII.     Of age.\n\nAdvise to choose weapons of the shortest sort\nAn ignorance that knowledge creates and begets\nAshamed to lay out as much thought and study upon it\nCan neither keep nor enjoy anything with a good grace\nChange of fashions\nChess: this idle and childish game\nDeath is terrible to Cicero, coveted by Cato\nDeath of old age the most rare and very seldom seen\nDiogenes, esteeming us no better than flies or bladders\nDo not to pray that all things may go as we would have them\nExcel above the common rate in frivolous things\nExpresses more contempt and condemnation than the other\nFancy that others cannot believe otherwise than as he does\nGradations above and below pleasure\nGreatest apprehensions, from things unseen, concealed\nHe did not think mankind worthy of a wise man's concern\nHome anxieties and a mind enslaved by wearing complaints\nHow infirm and decaying material this fabric of ours is\nI do not willingly alight when I am once on horseback\nLed by the ears by this charming harmony of words\nLittle knacks  and frivolous subtleties\nMen approve of things for their being rare and new\nMust of necessity walk in the steps of another\nNatural death the most rare and very seldom seen\nNot to instruct but to be instructed\nPresent Him such words as the memory suggests to the tongue\nPsalms of King David: promiscuous, indiscreet\nRhetoric: an art to flatter and deceive\nRhetoric: to govern a disorderly and tumultuous rabble\nSitting betwixt two stools\nSometimes the body first submits to age, sometimes the mind\nStupidity and facility natural to the common people\nThe Bible: the wicked and ignorant grow worse by it\nThe faintness that surprises in the exercises of Venus\nThucydides: which was the better wrestler\nTo die of old age is a death rare, extraordinary, and singular\nTo make little things appear great was his profession\nTo smell, though well, is to stink\nValour will cause a trembling in the limbs as well as fear\nViscid melting kisses of youthful ardour in my wanton age\nWe can never be despised according to our full desert\nWhen we have got it, we want something else\nWomen who paint, pounce, and plaster up their ruins\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V09, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#09][mn09v10.txt]3589\nBOOK THE SECOND.--CHAP. I. to  VI.\nI.        Of the inconstancy of our actions.\nII.       Of drunkenness.\nIII.      A custom of the Isle of Cea.\nIV.       To-morrow's a new day.\nV.        Of conscience.\nVI.       Use makes perfect.\n\n\nAddresses his voyage to no certain port\nAll apprentices when we come to it(death)\nAny one may deprive us of life; no one can deprive us of death\nBusiness to-morrow\nCondemning wine, because some people will be drunk\nConscience makes us betray, accuse, and fight against ourselves\nCuriosity and of that eager passion for news\nDelivered into our own custody the keys of life\nDrunkeness a true and certain trial of every one's nature\nI can more hardly believe a man's constancy than any virtue\n\"I wish you good health.\"  \"No health to thee,\" replied the other\nIf to philosophise be, as 'tis defined, to doubt\nImproperly we call this voluntary dissolution, despair\nIt's madness to nourish infirmity\nLet him be as wise as he will, after all he is but a man\nLiving is slavery if the liberty of dying be wanting.\nLook upon themselves as a third person only, a stranger\nLower himself to the meanness of defending his innocence\nMuch difference betwixt us and ourselves\nNo alcohol the night on which a man intends to get children\nNo excellent soul is exempt from a mixture of madness\nNot conclude too much upon your mistress's inviolable chastity\nOne door into life, but a hundred thousand ways out\nOrdinary method of cure is carried on at the expense of life\nPlato forbids children wine till eighteen years of age\nShame for me to serve, being so near the reach of liberty\nSpeak less of one's self than what one really is is folly\nTaught to consider sleep as a resemblance of death\nThe action is commendable, not the man.\nThe most voluntary death is the finest\nThe vice opposite to curiosity is negligence\nThings seem greater by imagination than they are in effect\nThy own cowardice is the cause, if thou livest in pain\nTis evil counsel that will admit no change\nTorture: rather a trial of patience than of truth\nWe do not go, we are driven\nWhat can they suffer who do not fear to die?\nWhoever expects punishment already suffers it\nWise man lives as long as he ought, not so long as he can\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V10, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#10][mn10v10.txt]3590\nBOOK THE SECOND.--CHAP. VII.  to  XII.\nVII.      Of recompenses of honour.\nVIII.     Of the affection of fathers to their children.\nIX.       Of the arms of the Parthians.\nX.        Of books.\nXI.       Of cruelty.\nXII.\n\nA little cheese when a mind to make a feast\nA word ill taken obliterates ten years' merit\nCato said: So many servants, so many enemies\nCherish themselves most where they are most wrong\nCondemn all violence in the education of a tender soul\nCruelty is the very extreme of all vices\nDisguise, by their abridgments and at their own choice\nEpicurus\nFlatterer in your old age or in your sickness\nHe felt a pleasure and delight in so noble an action\nHe judged other men by himself\nI cannot well refuse to play with my dog\nI do not much lament the dead, and should envy them rather\nI had rather be old a brief time, than be old before old age\nI owe it rather to my fortune than my reason\nIncline the history to their own fancy\nIt (my books) may know many things that are gone from me\nKnowledge and truth may be in us without judgment\nLearn the theory from those who best know the practice\nLoved them for our sport, like monkeys, and not as men\nMotive to some vicious occasion or some prospect of profit\nMy books: from me hold that which I have not retained\nMy dog unseasonably importunes me to play\nMy innocence is a simple one; little vigour and no art\nNever observed any great stability in my soul to resist passions\nNothing tempts my tears but tears\nOmit, as incredible, such things as they do not understand\nOn all occasions to contradict and oppose\nOnly desire to become more wise, not more learned or eloquent\nPassion of dandling and caressing infants scarcely born\nPerfection: but I will not buy it so dear as it costs\nPlato will have nobody marry before thirty\nPrudent and just man may be intemperate and inconsistent\nPuerile simplicities of our children\nShelter my own weakness under these great reputations\nSocrates kept a confounded scolding wife\nThe authors, with whom I converse\nThere is no recompense becomes virtue\nTo do well where there was danger was the proper office\nTo whom no one is ill who can be good?\nTurks have alms and hospitals for beasts\nVices will cling together, if a man have not a care\nVirtue is much strengthened by combats\nVirtue refuses facility for a companion\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V11, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#11][mn11v10.txt]3591\nBOOK THE SECOND.--CHAP. XIII. to  XVII.\nXIII.     Of judging of the death of another.\nXIV.      That the mind hinders itself.\nXV.       That our desires are augmented by difficulty.\nXVI.      Of glory.\nXVII.     Of presumption.\n\nA generous heart ought not to belie its own thoughts\nA man may play the fool in everything else, but not in poetry\nAgainst my trifles you could say no more than I myself have said\nAgitated betwixt hope and fear\nAll defence shows a face of war\nAlmanacs\nAn advantage in judgment we yield to none\nAny old government better than change and alteration\nAnything becomes foul when commended by the multitude\nAppetite runs after that it has not\nArmed parties (the true school of treason, inhumanity,  robbery\nAuthority to be dissected by the vain fancies of men\nAuthority which a graceful presence and a majestic mien beget\nBe on which side you will, you have as fair a game to play\nBeauty of stature is the only beauty of men\nBelieving Heaven concerned at our ordinary actions\nBetter at speaking than writing.  Motion and action animate word\nCaesar's choice of death: \"the shortest\"\nCeremony forbids us to express by words things that are lawful\nContent: more easily found in want than in abundance\nCuriosity of knowing things has been given to man for a scourge\nDefence allures attempt, and defiance provokes an enemy\nDesire of riches is more sharpened by their use than by the need\nDifficulty gives all things their estimation\nDoubt whether those (old writings) we have be not the worst\nDoubtful ills plague us worst\nEndeavouring to be brief, I become obscure\nEngaged in the avenues of old age, being already past forty\nEvery government has a god at the head of it\nExecutions rather whet than dull the edge of vices\nFear of the fall more fevers me than the fall itself\nFolly to hazard that upon the uncertainty of augmenting it\nFor who ever thought he wanted sense?\nFortune rules in all things\nGentleman would play the fool to make a show of defence\nHappen to do anything commendable, I attribute it to fortune\nHaving too good an opinion of our own worth\nHe should discern in himself, as well as in others\nHe who is only a good man that men may know it\nHow many worthy men have we known to survive their reputation\nHumble out of pride\nI am very glad to find the way beaten before me by others\nI find myself here fettered by the laws of ceremony\nI have no mind to die, but I have no objection to be dead\nI have not a wit supple enough to evade a sudden question\nI have nothing of my own that satisfies my judgment\nI would be rich of myself, and not by borrowing\nIll luck is good for something\nImitating other men's natures, thou layest aside thy own\nImmoderate either seeking or evading glory or reputation\nImpunity pass with us for justice\nIt is not for outward show that the soul is to play its part\nKnowledge of others, wherein the honour consists\nLessen the just value of things that I possess\nLicense of judgments is a great disturbance to great affairs\nLose what I have a particular care to lock safe up\nLoses more by defending his vineyard than if he gave it up.\nMore brave men been lost in occasions of little moment\nMore solicitous that men speak of us, than how they speak\nMy affection alters, my judgment does not\nNo way found  to tranquillity that is good in common\nNot being able to govern events, I govern myself\nNot conceiving things otherwise than by this outward bark\nNot for any profit, but for the honour of honesty itself\nNothing is more confident than a bad poet\nNothing that so poisons as flattery\nObedience is never pure nor calm in him who reasons and disputes\nOccasions of the least lustre are ever the most dangerous\nOf the fleeting years each steals something from me\nOffice of magnanimity openly and professedly to love and hate\nOld age: applaud the past and condemn the present\nOne may be humble out of pride\nOur will is more obstinate by being opposed\nOvervalue things, because they are foreign, absent\nPhilopoemen: paying the penalty of my ugliness.\nPleasing all: a mark that can never be aimed at or hit\nPoets\nPossession begets a contempt of what it holds and rules\nProlong his life also prolonged and augmented his pain\nRegret so honourable a post, where necessity must make them bold\nSense: no one who is not contented with his share\nSetting too great a value upon ourselves\nSetting too little a value upon others\nShe who only refuses, because 'tis forbidden, consents\nShort of the foremost, but before the last.\nSouls that are regular and strong of themselves are rare\nSuicide: a morsel that is to be swallowed without chewing\nTake all things at the worst, and to resolve to bear that worst\nThe age we live in produces but very indifferent things\nThe reward of a thing well done is to have done it\nThe satiety of living, inclines a man to desire to die\nThere is no reason that has not its contrary\nThey do not see my heart, they see but my countenance\nThose who can please and hug themselves in what they do\nTis far beyond not fearing death to taste and relish it\nTo forbid us anything is to make us have a mind to't\nVoice and determination of the rabble, the mother of ignorance\nVulgar reports and opinions that drive us on\nWe believe we do not believe\nWe consider our death as a very great thing\nWe have not the thousandth part of ancient writings\nWe have taught the ladies to blush\nWe set too much value upon ourselves\nWere more ambitious of a great reputation than of a good one\nWhat a man says should be what he thinks\nWhat he did by nature and accident, he cannot do by design\nWhat is more accidental than reputation?\nWhat, shall so much knowledge be lost\nWiser who only know what is needful for them to know\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V12, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#12][mn12v10.txt]3592\nBOOK THE SECOND.--CHAP. XVIII. to  XXXI.\nXVIII.    Of giving the lie.\nXIX.      Of liberty of conscience.\nXX.       That we taste nothing pure.\nXXI.      Against idleness.\nXXII.     Of Posting.\nXXIII.    Of ill means employed to a good end.\nXXIV.     Of the Roman grandeur.\nXXV.      Not to counterfeit being sick.\nXXVI.     Of thumbs.\nXXVII.    Cowardice the mother of cruelty.\nXXVIII.   All things have their season.\nXXIX.     Of virtue.\nXXX.      Of a monstrous child.\nXXXI.     Of anger.\n\nA man may always study, but he must not always go to school\nAccursed be thou, as he that arms himself for fear of death\nAll things have their seasons, even good ones\nAll those who have authority to be angry in my family\n\"An emperor,\" said he, \"must die standing\"\nAncient Romans kept their youth always standing at school\nAnd we suffer the ills of a long peace\nBe not angry to no purpose\nBest virtue I have has in it some tincture of vice\nBy resenting the lie we acquit ourselves of the fault\nBy the gods,\" said he, \"if I was not angry, I would execute you\nChildren are amused with toys and men with words\nConsent, and complacency in giving a man's self up to melancholy\nDefend most the defects with which we are most tainted\nEmperor Julian, surnamed the Apostate\nFortune sometimes seems to delight in taking us at our word\nGreatest talkers, for the most part, do nothing to purpose\nHave more wherewith to defray my journey, than I have way to go\nHearing a philosopher talk of military affairs\nHow much it costs him to do no worse\nI need not seek a fool from afar; I can laugh at myself\nIdleness, the mother of corruption\nIf a passion once prepossess and seize me, it carries me away\nIn sorrow there is some mixture of pleasure\nKilling is good to frustrate an offence to come, not to revenge\nLaws cannot subsist without mixture of injustice\nLeast end of a hair will serve to draw them into my discourse\nLet us not seek our disease out of ourselves; 'tis in us\nLook on death not only without astonishment but without care\nMelancholy: Are there not some constitutions that feed upon it?\nMost cruel people, and upon frivolous occasions, apt to cry.\nNo beast in the world so much to be feared by man as man\nOur extremest pleasure has some sort of groaning\nOur fancy does what it will, both with itself and us\nOwe ourselves chiefly and mostly to ourselves\nPetulant madness contends with itself\nRage it puts them to oppose silence and coldness to their fury\nRash and incessant scolding runs into custom\nRevenge, which afterwards produces a series of new cruelties\nSee how flexible our reason is\nSeeming anger, for the better governing of my house\nShake the truth of our Church by the vices of her ministers\nTake my last leave of every place I depart from\nThe gods sell us all the goods they give us\nThe storm is only begot by a concurrence of angers\nThough nobody should read me, have I wasted time\nTis said of Epimenides, that he always prophesied backward.\nTis then no longer correction, but revenge\nUpon the precipice, 'tis no matter who gave you the push\nWhen will this man be wise,\" said he, \"if he is yet learning?\nWhen you see me moved first, let me alone, right or wrong\nYoung are to make their preparations, the old to enjoy them\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V13, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#13][mn13v10.txt]3593\nBOOK THE SECOND.--CHAP. XXXII. to  XXXVII.\nXXXII.    Defence of Seneca and Plutarch.\nXXXIII.   The story of Spurina.\nXXXIV.    Observation on the means to carry on a war according to Julius\n          Caesar.\nXXXV.     Of three good women.\nXXXVI.    Of the most excellent men.\nXXXVII.   Of the resemblance of children to their fathers.\n\nAccusing all others of ignorance and imposition\nAffection towards their husbands, (not)until they have lost them\nAnything of value in him, let him make it appear in his conduct\nAs if impatience were of itself a better remedy than patience\nAssurance they give us of the certainty of their drugs\nAt least, if they do no good, they will do no harm\nAttribute to itself; all the happy successes that happen\nBest part of a captain to know how to make use of occasions\nBurnt and roasted for opinions taken upon trust from others\nCommit themselves to the common fortune\nCrafty humility that springs from presumption\nDid not approve all sorts of means to obtain a victory\nDisease had arrived at its period or an effect of chance?\nDissentient and tumultuary drugs\nDo not much blame them for making their advantage of our folly\nDoctors: more felicity and duration in their own lives?\nDoctrine much more intricate and fantastic than the thing itself\nDrugs being in its own nature an enemy to our health\nEven the very promises of physic are incredible in themselves\nFathers conceal their affection from their children\nHe who provides for all, provides for nothing\nHealth depends upon the vanity and falsity of their promises\nHealth is altered and corrupted by their frequent prescriptions\nHealth to be worth purchasing by all the most painful cauteries\nHomer: The only words that have motion and action\nI am towards the bottom of the barrel\nI dare not promise but that I may one day be so much a fool\nI see no people so soon sick as those who take physic\nIndiscreet desire of a present cure, that so blind us\nIntended to get a new husband than to lament the old\nLet it alone a little\nLife should be cut off in the sound and living part\nLive a quite contrary sort of life to what they prescribe others\nLive, not so long as they please, but as long as they ought\nLlaying the fault upon the patient, by such frivolous reasons\nLong a voyage I should at last run myself into some disadvantage\nMaking their advantage of our folly, for most men do the same\nMan may with less trouble adapt himself to entire abstinence\nMan runs a very great hazard in their hands (of physicians)\nMark of singular good nature to preserve old age\nMen must embark, and not deliberate, upon high enterprises\nMercenaries who would receive any (pay)\nModeration is a virtue that gives more work than suffering\nMore valued a victory obtained by counsel than by force\nMost men do not so much believe as they acquiesce and permit\nNever any man knew so much, and spake so little\nNo danger with them, though they may do us no good\nNo other foundation or support than public abuse\nNo physic that has not something hurtful in it\nNoble and rich, where examples of virtue are rarely lodged\nObstinacy is the sister of constancy\nOrder a purge for your brain, it will there be much better\nOrdinances it (Medicine)foists upon us\nPassion has a more absolute command over us than reason\nPay very strict usury who did not in due time pay the principal\nPeople are willing to be gulled in what they desire\nPhysician's \"help\", which is very often an obstacle\nPhysicians are not content to deal only with the sick\nPhysicians fear men should at any time escape their authority\nPhysicians were the only men who might lie at pleasure\nPhysicians: earth covers their failures\nPlato said of the Egyptians, that they were all physicians\nPure cowardice that makes our belief so pliable\nRecommendation of strangeness, rarity, and dear purchase\nSend us to the better air of some other country\nShould first have mended their breeches\nSmile upon us whilst we are alive\nSo austere and very wise countenance and carriage :of physicians\nSo much are men enslaved to their miserable being\nSolon said \"that eating was physic against the malady hunger\nStrangely suspect all this merchandise: medical care\nStudies, to teach me to do, and not to write\nSuch a recipe as they will not take themselves\nThat he could neither read nor swim\nThe Babylonians carried their sick into the public square\nThey (good women) are not by the dozen, as every one knows\nThey have not one more invention left wherewith to amuse us\nThey juggle and trifle in all their discourses at our expense\nThey never loved them till dead\nTis in some sort a kind of dying to avoid the pain of living well\nTis not the number of men, but the number of good men\nTis there she talks plain French\nTo be, not to seem\nTo keep me from dying is not in your power\nTwo opinions alike, no more than two hairs\nTyrannical authority physicians usurp over poor creatures\nVenture it upon his neighbour, if he will let him\nventure the making ourselves better without any danger\nWe confess our ignorance in many things\nWe do not easily accept the medicine we understand\nWhat are become of all our brave philosophical precepts?\nWhat we have not seen, we are forced to receive from other hands\nWhatever was not ordinary diet, was instead of a drug\nWhimpering is offensive to the living and vain to the dead\nWho does not boast of some rare recipe\nWho ever saw one physician approve of another's prescription\nWillingly give them leave to laugh after we are dead\nWith being too well I am about to die\nWont to give others their life, and not to receive it\nYou may indeed make me die an ill death\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V14, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#14][mn14v10.txt]3594\nBOOK THE THIRD.--CHAP. I. to  IV.\nI.        Of Profit and Honesty.\nII.       Of Repentance.\nIII.      Of Three Commerces.\nIV.       Of Diversion.\n\nA little thing will turn and divert us\nAbominate that incidental repentance which old age brings\nAge imprints more wrinkles in the mind than it does on the face\nAlways be parading their pedantic science\nAm as jealous of my repose as of my authority\nAnger and hatred are beyond the duty of justice\nBeast of company, as the ancient said, but not of the herd\nBooks go side by side with me in my whole course\nBooks have many charming qualities to such as know how to choose\nBut ill proves the honour and beauty of an action by its utility\nChildish ignorance of many very ordinary things\nCommon consolation, discourages and softens me\nConsoles himself upon the utility and eternity of his writings\nDeceit maintains and supplies most men's employment\nDiverting the opinions and conjectures of the people\nDying appears to him a natural and indifferent accident\nEvery place of retirement requires a walk\nFault will be theirs for having consulted me\nFew men have been admired by their own domestics\nFollies do not make me laugh, it is our wisdom which does\nFolly to put out their own light and shine by a borrowed lustre\nFor fear of the laws and report of men\nGently to bear the inconstancy of a lover\nGive but the rind of my attention\nGrief provokes itself\nHe may employ his passion, who can make no use of his reason\nHe may well go a foot, they say, who leads his horse in his hand\nI do not consider what it is now, but what it was then\nI find no quality so easy to counterfeit as devotion\nI lay no great stress upon my opinions; or of others\nI look upon death carelessly when I look upon it universally\nI receive but little advice, I also give but little\nI speak truth, not so much as I would, but as much as I dare\nI understand my men even by their silence and smiles\nIdleness is to me a very painful labour\nImagne the mighty will not abase themselves so much as to live\nIn ordinary friendships I am somewhat cold and shy\nLeaving nothing unsaid, how home and bitter soever\nLibrary: Tis there that I am in my kingdom\nMalice sucks up the greatest part of its own venom\nMalicious kind of justice\nMiserable kind of remedy, to owe one's health to one's disease!\nMiserable, who has not at home where to be by himself\nMore supportable to be always alone than never to be so\nMy fancy does not go by itself, as when my legs move it\nMy thoughts sleep if I sit still\nNearest to the opinions of those with whom they have to do\nNo evil is honourable; but death is honourable\nNo man is free from speaking foolish things\nNoise of arms deafened the voice of laws\nNone of the sex, let her be as ugly as the devil thinks lovable\nObliged to his age for having weaned him from pleasure\nOpen speaking draws out discoveries, like wine and love\nPerfect men as they are, they are yet simply men.\nPreachers very often work more upon their auditory than  reasons\nPublic weal requires that men should betray, and lie\nRidiculous desire of riches when we have lost the use of them\nRowers who so advance backward\nSeason a denial with asperity, suspense, or favour\nSo that I could have said no worse behind their backs\nSocrates: According to what a man can\nStudied, when young, for ostentation, now for diversion\nSwim in troubled waters without fishing in them\nTake a pleasure in being uninterested in other men's affairs\nThe good opinion of the vulgar is injurious\nThe sick man has not to complain who has his cure in his sleeve\nThe virtue of the soul does not consist in flying high\nTis an exact life that maintains itself in due order in private\nTis not the cause, but their interest, that inflames them\nTitillation of ill-natured pleasure in seeing others suffer\nTo be a slave, incessantly to be led by the nose by one's self\nTruly he, with a great effort will shortly say a mighty trifle\nWe do not so much forsake vices as we change them\nWe much more aptly imagine an artisan upon his close-stool\nWhat more?  they lie with their lovers learnedly\nWhat need have they of anything but to live beloved and honoured\nWisdom is folly that does not accommodate itself to the common\nYou must let yourself down to those with whom you converse\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V15, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#15][mn15v10.txt]3595\nBOOK THE THIRD.--CHAP. V.\nV.     Upon Some verses of Virgil.\n\nA gallant man does not give over his pursuit for being refused\nA lady could not boast of her chastity who was never tempted\nAppetite is more sharp than one already half-glutted by the eyes\nBashfulness is an ornament to youth, but a reproach to old age\nCertain other things that people hide only to show them\nChiefly knew himself to be mortal by this act\nDearness is a good sauce to meat\nEach amongst you has made somebody cuckold\nEat your bread with the sauce of a more pleasing imagination\nEvade this tormenting and unprofitable knowledge\nFeminine polity has a mysterious procedure\nFew men have made a wife of a mistress, who have not repented it\nFirst thing to be considered in love matters: a fitting time\nFriend, the hook will not stick in such soft cheese\nGive the ladies a cruel contempt of our natural furniture\nGuess at our meaning under general and doubtful terms\nHate all sorts of obligation and restraint\nHave ever had a great respect for her I loved\nHave no other title left me to these things but by the ears\nHeat and stir up their imagination, and then we find fault\nHusbands hate their wives only because they themselves do wrong\nI am apt to dream that I dream\nI do not say that 'tis well said, but well thought\nI had much rather die than live upon charity\nI was always superstitiously afraid of giving offence\nIf I am talking my best, whoever interrupts me, stops me\nIf they can only be kind to us out of pity\nIn everything else a man may keep some decorum\nIn those days, the tailor took measure of it\nInclination to variety and novelty common to us both\nInconsiderate excuses are a kind of self-accusation\nInterdiction incites, and who are more eager, being forbidden\nIt happens, as with cages, the birds without despair to get in\nJealousy: no remedy but flight or patience\nJudgment of duty principally lies in the will\nLadies are no sooner ours, than we are no more theirs\nLet a man take which course he will,\" said he; \"he will repent\"\nLet us not be ashamed to speak what we are not ashamed to think\nLove is the appetite of generation by the mediation of beauty\nLove shamefully and dishonestly cured by marriage\nLove them the less for our own faults\nLove, full, lively, and sharp; a pleasure inflamed by difficulty\nMan must approach his wife with prudence and temperance\nMarriage rejects the company and conditions of love\nMen make them (the rules) without their (women's) help\nMisfortunes that only hurt us by being known\nModesty is a foolish virtue in an indigent person (Homer)\nMost of my actions are guided by example, not by choice\nNeither continency nor virtue where there are no opposing desire\nNo doing more difficult than that not doing, nor more active\nO wretched men, whose pleasures are a crime\nO, the furious advantage of opportunity!\nObserved the laws of marriage, than I either promised or expect\nOne may more boldly dare what nobody thinks you dare\nOrder it so that your virtue may conquer your misfortune\nPlato says, that the gods made man for their sport\nPleasure of telling (a pleasure little inferior to that of doing\nPriest shall on the wedding-day open the way to the bride\nPrudent man, when I imagine him in this posture\nRage compelled to excuse itself by a pretence of good-will\nRather be a less while old than be old before I am really so\nRepresented her a little too passionate for a married Venus\nRevenge more wounds our children than it heals us\nSex: To put fools and wise men, beasts and us, on a level\nSharps and sweets of marriage, are kept secret by the wise\nSins that make the least noise are the worst\nSleep suffocates and suppresses the faculties of the soul\nSufficiently covered by their virtue without any other robe\nThe best authors too much humble and discourage me\nThe impulse of nature, which is a rough counsellor\nThe privilege of the mind to rescue itself from old age\nTheir disguises and figures only serve to cosen fools\nThere is no allurement like modesty, if it be not rude\nThese sleepy, sluggish sort of men are often the most dangerous\nThey better conquer us by flying\nThey buy a cat in a sack\nThey err as much who too much forbear Venus\nThey must become insensible and invisible to satisfy us.\nThey who would fight custom with grammar are triflers\nThose which we fear the least are, peradventure, most to be fear\nThose within (marriage) despair of getting out\nTis all swine's flesh, varied by sauces\nTo what friend dare you intrust your griefs\nTwas a happy marriage betwixt a blind wife and a deaf husband\nUnjust judges of their actions, as they are of ours\nVery idea we invent for their chastity is ridiculous\nVirtue is a pleasant and gay quality\nWe ask most when we bring least\nWe say a good marriage because no one says to the contrary.\nWhen jealousy seizes these poor souls\nWhen their eyes give the lie to their tongue\nWho escapes being talked of at the same rate\nWisdom has its excesses, and has no less need of moderation\nWould in this affair have a man a little play the servant\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V16, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#16][mn16v10.txt]3596\nBOOK THE THIRD.--CHAP. VI. to  VIII.\nVI.       Of Coaches.\nVII.      Of the Inconvenience of Greatness.\nVIII.     Of the Art of Conference.\n\nA hundred more escape us than ever come to our knowledge\nA man must have courage to fear\nA man never speaks of himself without loss\nA man's accusations of himself are always believed\nAgitation has usurped the place of reason\nAll judgments in gross are weak and imperfect\nAny argument if it  be carried on with method\nApprenticeships that are to be served beforehand\nArrogant ignorance\nAvoid all magnificences that will in a short time be forgotten\nBeing as impatient of commanding as of being commanded\nDefer my revenge to another and better time\nDesires, that still increase as they are fulfilled\nDetest in others the defects which are more manifest in us\nDisdainful, contemplative, serious and grave as the ass\nDo not, nevertheless, always believe myself\nEvents are a very poor testimony of our worth and parts.\nEvery abridgment of a good book is a foolish abridgment\nFault not to discern how far a man's worth extends\nFolly and absurdity are not to be cured by bare admonition\nFolly satisfied with itself than any reason can reasonably be.\nFolly than to be moved and angry at the follies of the world\nGive us history, more as they receive it than as they believe it\nI every day hear fools say things that are not foolish\nI hail and caress truth in what quarter soever I find it\nI hate all sorts of tyranny, both in word and deed\nI love stout expressions amongst gentle men\nI was too frightened to be ill\nIf it be the writer's wit or borrowed from some other\n\"It was what I was about to say; it was just my idea\nIgnorance does not offend me, but the foppery of it\nIt is not a book to read, 'tis a book to study and learn\nJudge by justice, and choose men by reason\nKnock you down with the authority of their experience\nLearning improves fortunes enough, but not minds\nLiberality at the expense of others\nMalice must be employed to correct this arrogant ignorance\nMan must have a care not to do his master so great service\nMix railing, indiscretion, and fury in his disputations\nMost men are rich in borrowed sufficiency\nMy humour is unfit either to speak or write for beginners\nMy reason is not obliged to bow and bend; my knees are\nNever oppose them either by word or sign, how false or absurd\nNew World: sold it opinions and our arts at a very dear rate\nObstinancy and heat in argument are the surest proofs of folly\nOne must first know what is his own and what is not\nOur knowledge, which is a wretched foundation\nPassion has already confounded his judgment\nPinch the secret strings of our imperfections\nPractical Jokes: Tis unhandsome to fight in play\nPresumptive knowledge by silence\nSilent mien procured the credit of prudence and capacity\nSpectators can claim no interest in the honour and pleasure\nStudy of books is a languishing and feeble motion\nThe cause of truth ought to be the common cause\nThe event often justifies a very foolish conduct\nThe ignorant return from the combat full of joy and triumph\nThe very name Liberality sounds of Liberty\nThere are some upon whom their rich clothes weep\nThere is no merchant that always gains\nThere is nothing single and rare in respect of nature\nThey have heard, they have seen, they have done so and so\nThey have not the courage to suffer themselves to be corrected\nTis impossible to deal fairly with a fool\nTo fret and vex at folly, as I do, is folly itself\nTransferring of money from the right owners to strangers\nTutor to the ignorance and folly of the first we meet\nTyrannic sourness not to endure a form contrary to one's own\nUniversal judgments that I see so common, signify nothing\nWe are not to judge of counsels by events\nWe do not correct the man we hang; we correct others by him\nWe neither see far forward nor far backward\nWhat he laughed at, being alone?--That I do laugh alone!\nWhilst thou wast silent, thou seemedst to be some great thing\nWho has once been a very fool, will never after be very wise\nWide of the mark in judging of their own works\nWise may learn more of fools, than fools can of the wise\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V17, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#17][mn17v10.txt]3597\nBOOK THE THIRD.--CHAP. IX.\nIX.       Of Vanity.\n\nA man may govern himself well who cannot govern others so\nA man should diffuse joy, but, as much as he can, smother grief\nA well-bred man is a compound man\nAll over-nice solicitude about riches smells of avarice\nAlways complaining is the way never to be lamented\nAppetite comes to me in eating\nBetter to be alone than in foolish and troublesome company\nBy suspecting them, have given them a title to do ill\nChange only gives form to injustice and tyranny\nCivil innocence is measured according to times and places\nConclude the depth of my sense by its obscurity\nConcluding no beauty can be greater than what they see\nConfession enervates reproach and disarms slander\nCounterfeit condolings of pretenders\nCrates did worse, who threw himself into the liberty of poverty\nDesire of travel\nEnough to do to comfort myself, without having to console others\nFriend, it is not now time to play with your nails\nGain to change an ill condition for one that is uncertain\nGiving is an ambitious and authoritative quality\nGood does not necessarily succeed evil; another evil may succeed\nGreedy humour of new and unknown things\nHe must fool it a little who would not be deemed wholly a fool\nI always find superfluity superfluous\nI am disgusted with the world I frequent\nI am hard to be got out, but being once upon the road\nI am very willing to quit the government of my house\nI content myself with enjoying the world without bustle\nI enter into confidence with dying\nI grudge nothing but care and trouble\nI hate poverty equally with pain\nI scorn to mend myself by halves\nI write my book for few men and for few years\nJustice als takes cognisance of those who glean after the reaper\nKnown evil was ever more supportable than one that was, new\nLaws (of Plato on travel), which forbids it after threescore\nLiberty and laziness, the qualities most predominant in me\nLiberty of poverty\nLiberty to lean, but not to lay our whole weight upon others\nLittle affairs most disturb us\nMen as often commend as undervalue me beyond reason\nMethinks I promise it, if I but say it\nMy mind is easily composed at distance\nNeither be a burden to myself nor to any other\nNo use to this age, I throw myself back upon that other\nNothing falls where all falls\nNothing presses so hard upon a state as innovation\nObstinate in growing worse\nOccupy our thoughts about the general, and about universal cause\nOne may regret better times, but cannot fly from the present\nOpposition and contradiction entertain and nourish them\nOur qualities have no title but in comparison\nPreferring the universal and common tie to all national ties\nProceed so long as there shall be ink and paper in the world\nSatisfied and pleased with and in themselves\nSettled my thoughts to live upon less than I have\nSome wives covetous indeed, but very few that are good managers\nThat looks a nice well-made shoe to you\nThere can be no pleasure to me without communication\nThink myself no longer worth my own care\nTis for youth to subject itself to common opinions\nTis more laudable to obey the bad than the good\nTitles of my chapters do not always comprehend the whole matter\nTravel with not only a necessary, but a handsome equipage\nTurn up my eyes to heaven to return thanks, than to crave\nWeigh, as wise: men should, the burden of obligation\nWhat sort of wine he liked the best: \"That of another\"\nWhat step ends the near and what step begins the remote\nWhen I travel I have nothing to care for but myself\nWise man to keep a curbing hand upon the impetus of friendship\nWorld where loyalty of one's own children is unknown\nWretched and dangerous thing to depend upon others\nYou have lost a good captain, to make of him a bad general\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V18, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#18][mn18v10.txt]3598\nBOOK THE THIRD.--CHAP. X. to  XII.\nX.        Of Managing the Will.\nXI.       Of Cripples.\nXII.      Of Physiognomy.\n\nA man should abhor lawsuits as much as he may\nA person's look is but a feeble warranty\nAccept all things we are not able to refute\nAdmiration is the foundation of all philosophy\nAdvantageous, too, a little to recede from one's right\nAll I say is by way of discourse, and nothing by way of advice\nApt to promise something less than what I am able to do\nAs if anything were so common as ignorance\nAuthority of the number and antiquity of the witnesses\nBest test of truth is the multitude of believers in a crowd\nBooks have not so much served me for instruction as exercise\nBooks of things that were never either studied or understood\nCondemn the opposite affirmation equally\nCourageous in death, not because his soul is immortal--Socrates\nDeath conduces more to birth and augmentation than to loss\nDecree that says, \"The court understands nothing of the matter\nDeformity of the first cruelty makes me abhor all imitation\nEnters lightly into a quarrel is apt to go as lightly out of it\nEstablish this proposition by authority and huffing\nExtend their anger and hatred beyond the dispute in question\nFabric goes forming and piling itself up from hand to hand\nFortune heaped up five or six such-like incidents\nHard to resolve a man's judgment against the common opinions\nHaste trips up its own heels, fetters, and stops itself\nHe cannot be good, seeing he is not evil even to the wicked\nHe who stops not the start will never be able to stop the course\n\"How many things,\" said he, \"I do not desire!\"\nHow much easier is it not to enter in than it is to get out\nI am a little tenderly distrustful of things that I wish\nI am no longer in condition for any great change\nI am not to be cuffed into belief\nI am plain and heavy, and stick to the solid and the probable\nI do not judge opinions by years\nI ever justly feared to raise my head too high\nI would as willingly be lucky as wise\nIf I stand in need of anger and inflammation, I borrow it\nIf they hear no noise, they think men sleep\nImpose them upon me as infallible\nInconveniences that moderation brings (in civil war)\nLend himself to others, and only give himself to himself\nLet not us seek illusions from without and unknown\n\"Little learning is needed to form a sound mind\" --Seneca\nLong toleration begets habit; habit, consent and imitation\nMen are not always to rely upon the personal confessions\nMerciful to the man, but not to his wickedness--Aristotle\nMiracles and strange events have concealed themselves from me\nMy humour is no friend to tumult\nNosegay of foreign flowers, having furnished nothing of my own\nNot believe from one, I should not believe from a hundred\nNothing is so supple and erratic as our understanding\nNumber of fools so much exceeds the wise\nOpinions we have are taken on authority and trust\nOthers adore all of their own side\nPitiful ways and expedients to the jugglers of the law\nPrepare ourselves against the preparations of death\nProfession of knowledge and their immeasurable self-conceit\nQuiet repose and a profound sleep without dreams\nReasons often anticipate the effect\nRefusin  to justify, excuse, or explain myself\nRemotest witness knows more about it than those who were nearest\nRestoring what has been lent us, wit  usury and accession\nRicher than we think we are; but we are taught to borrow\nRight of command appertains to the beautiful-Aristotle\nRude and quarrelsome flatly to deny a stated fact\nSuffer my judgment to be made captive by prepossession\nSwell and puff up their souls, and their natural way of speaking\nTaught to be afraid of professing our ignorance\nThe last informed is better persuaded than the first\nThe mind grows costive and thick in growing old\nThe particular error first makes the public error\nTheir souls seek repose in agitation\nThey gently name them, so they patiently endure them (diseases)\nThose oppressed with sorrow sometimes surprised by a smile\nThreats of the day of judgment\nTis better to lean towards doubt than assurance--Augustine\nTis no matter; it may be of use to some others\nTo forbear doing is often as generous as to do\nTo kill men, a clear and strong light is required\nToo contemptible to be punished\nTrue liberty is to be able to do what a man will with himself\nVast distinction betwixt devotion and conscience\nWe have naturally a fear of pain, but not of death\nWhat did I say?  that I have?  no, Chremes, I had\nWho discern no riches but in pomp and show\nWhoever will be cured of ignorance must confess it\nWould have every one in his party blind or a blockhead\nWrong the just side when they go about to assist it with fraud\nYet at least for ambition's sake, let us reject ambition\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Essays of Montaigne, V19, 1877, Cotton\n[MN#19][mn19v10.txt]3599\nBOOK THE THIRD.--CHAP. XIII.\nXIII.     Of Experience.\n\n\nA well-governed stomach is a great part of liberty\nAffirmation and obstinacy are express signs of want of wit\nAlexander said, that the end of his labour was to labour\nAll actions equally become and equally honour a wise man\nAs we were formerly by crimes, so we are now overburdened by law\nAt the most, but patch you up, and prop you a little\nbetter have none at all than to have them in so prodigious a num\nBoth kings and philosophers go to stool\nCannot stand the liberty of a friend's advice\nCleave to the side that stood most in need of her\nCondemnations have I seen more criminal than the crimes\nCustoms and laws make justice\nDignify our fopperies when we commit them to the press\nDiversity of medical arguments and opinions embraces all\nEvery man thinks himself sufficiently intelligent\nExcuse myself from knowing anything which enslaves me to others\nFirst informed who were to be the other guests\nGo out of ourselves, because we know not how there to reside\nGot up but an inch upon the shoulders of the last, but one\nHate remedies that are more troublesome than the disease itself\nHe who fears he shall suffer, already suffers what he fears\nHow many and many times he has been mistaken in his own judgment\n\"I have done nothing to-day.\"  What? have you not lived?\nIf it be a delicious medicine, take it\nIntelligence is required to be able to know that a man knows not\nIntemperance is the pest of pleasure\nLanguage: obscure and unintelligible in wills and contracts\nLast death will kill but a half or a quarter of a man\nLaw: breeder of altercation and division\nLaws keep up their credit, not for being just--but as laws\nLay the fault on the voices of those who speak to me\nLearn my own debility and the treachery of my understanding\nLife of Caesar has no greater example for us than our own\nLong sittings at table both trouble me and do me harm\nMade all medicinal conclusions largely give way to my pleasure\nMan after  who held out his pulse to a physician was a fool\nMan must learn that he is nothing but a fool\nMore ado to interpret interpretations\nMore books upon books than upon any other subject\nNever did two men make the same judgment of the same thing\nNone that less keep their promise(than physicians)\nNor get children but before I sleep, nor get them standing\nNothing so grossly, nor so ordinarily faulty, as the laws\nOur justice presents to us but one hand\nPerpetual scolding of his wife (of Socrates)\nPhysician: pass through all the diseases he pretends to cure\nPlato angry at excess of sleeping than at excess of drinking\nPlato: lawyers and physicians are bad institutions of a country\nProlong your misery an hour or two\nPut us into a way of extending and diversifying difficulties\nResolved to bring nothing to it but expectation and patience\nScratching is one of nature's sweetest gratifications\nSeek the quadrature of the circle, even when on their wives\nSo weak and languishing, as not to have even wishing left to him\nSoft, easy, and wholesome pillow is ignorance and incuriosity\nStudy makes me sensible how much I have to learn\nStyle wherewith men establish religions and laws\nSubdividing these subtilties we teach men to increase their doub\nThat we may live, we cease to live\nThe mean is best\nThere is none of us who would not be worse than kings\nThinking nothing done, if anything remained to be done\nThinks nothing profitable that is not painful\nThou diest because thou art living\nTis so I melt and steal away from myself\nTruth itself has not the privilege to be spoken at all times\nTruth, that for being older it is none the wiser\nWe must learn to suffer what we cannot evade\nWe ought to grant free passage to diseases\nWhoever will call to mind the excess of his past anger\nWhy do we not imitate the Roman architecture?\nWrangling arrogance, wholly believing and trusting in itself\nYet do we find any end of the need of interpretating?\n\n\n\n\nDec 2002 The Complete Essays of Montaigne, Cotton\n[MN#20][mn20v10.txt]3600\nEntire Project Gutenberg Montaigne Letters and Essays ed. 1877\n\nBOOK THE FIRST:\nI.      That men by various ways arrive at the same end.\nII.     Of Sorrow.\nIII.    That our affections carry themselves beyond us .\nIV.     That the soul discharges her passions upon false objects, where\n        the true are wanting.\nV.      Whether the governor of a place besieged ought himself to go out\n        to parley.\nVI.     That the hour of parley is dangerous.\nVII.    That the intention is judge of our actions\nVIII.   Of idleness.\nIX.     Of liars.\nX.      Of quick or slow speech.\nXI.     Of prognostications.\nXII.    Of constancy.\nXIII.   The ceremony of the interview of princes.\nXIV.    That men are justly punished for being obstinate in the defence\n        of a fort that is not in reason to be defended.\nXV.     Of the punishment of cowardice.\nXVI.    A proceeding of some ambassadors.\nXVII.   Of fear.\nXVIII.  That men are not to judge of our happiness till after death.\nXIX.    That to study philosophy is to learn to die.\nXX.     Of the force of imagination.\nXXI.    That the profit of one man is the damage of another.\nXXII.   Of custom, and that we should not easily change a law received .\nXXIII.  Various events from the same counsel.\nXXIV.   Of pedantry.\nXXV.    Of the education of children.\nXXVI.   That it is folly to measure truth and error by our own capacity.\nXXVII.  Of friendship.\nXXVIII. Nine-and-twenty sonnets of Estienne de la Boetie.\nXXIX.   Of moderation.\nXXX.    Of cannibals,\nXXXI.   That a man is soberly to judge of the divine ordinances.\nXXXII.  That we are to avoid pleasures, even at the expense of\n        life.\nXXXIII. That fortune is oftentimes observed to act by the rule of reason.\nXXXIV.  Of one defect in our government.\nXXXV.   Of the custom of wearing clothes\nXXXVI.  Of Cato the Younger.\nXXXVII. That we laugh and cry for the same thing.\nXXXVIII.Of solitude.\nXXXIX.  A consideration upon Cicero,\nXL.     That the relish of good and evil depends in a great measure upon\n        the opinion we have of them.\nXLI.    Not to communicate a man's honour.\nXLII.   Of the inequality amongst us.\nXLIII.  Of sumptuary laws.\nXLIV.   Of sleep.\nXLV.    Of the battle of Dreux.\nXLVI.   Of names.\nXLVII.  Of the uncertainty of our judgment.\nXLVIII. Of war-horses, or destriers.\nXLIX.   Of ancient customs.\nL.      Of Democritus and Heraclitus.\nLI.     Of the vanity of words.\nLII.    Of the parsimony of the Ancients.\nLIII.   Of a saying of Caesar.\nLIV.    Of vain subtleties.\nLV.     Of smells.\nLVI.    Of prayers.\nLVII.   Of age.\n\nBOOK THE SECOND:\nI.        Of the inconstancy of our actions.\nII.       Of drunkenness.\nIII.      A custom of the Isle of Cea.\nIV.       To-morrow's a new day.\nV.        Of conscience.\nVI.       Use makes perfect.\nVII.      Of recompenses of honour.\nVIII.     Of the affection of fathers to their children.\nIX.       Of the arms of the Parthians.\nX.        Of books.\nXI.       Of cruelty.\nXII.      Apology for Raimond de Sebonde (Not included)\nXIII.     Of judging of the death of another.\nXIV.      That the mind hinders itself.\nXV.       That our desires are augmented by difficulty.\nXVI.      Of glory.\nXVII.     Of presumption.\nXVIII.    Of giving the lie.\nXIX.      Of liberty of conscience.\nXX.       That we taste nothing pure.\nXXI.      Against idleness.\nXXII.     Of Posting.\nXXIII.    Of ill means employed to a good end.\nXXIV.     Of the Roman grandeur.\nXXV.      Not to counterfeit being sick.\nXXVI.     Of thumbs.\nXXVII.    Cowardice the mother of cruelty.\nXXVIII.   All things have their season.\nXXIX.     Of virtue.\nXXX.      Of a monstrous child.\nXXXI.     Of anger.\nXXXII.    Defence of Seneca and Plutarch.\nXXXIII.   The story of Spurina.\nXXXIV.    Observation on the means to carry on a war according to Julius\n          Caesar.\nXXXV.     Of three good women.\nXXXVI.    Of the most excellent men.\nXXXVII.   Of the resemblance of children to their fathers.\n\nBOOK THE THIRD:\nI.        Of Profit and Honesty.\nII.       Of Repentance.\nIII.      Of Three Commerces.\nIV.       Of Diversion.\nV.        Upon Some verses of Virgil.\nVI.       Of Coaches.\nVII.      Of the Inconvenience of Greatness.\nVIII.     Of the Art of Conference.\nIX.       Of Vanity.\nX.        Of Managing the Will.\nXI.       Of Cripples.\nXII.      Of Physiognomy.\nXIII.     Of Experience.\n\n[Inserting a few words of any of these 'Pointers' into your word\nprocessor's 'Find' or 'Search' program should take you directly to its\nparagraph in the text.  If you get one of those irritating \"Not Found\"\nmessages, try another selection of words from the bookmark--on occasion\nI have had to abbreviated or change the quotation so that it would fit,\nor the text may have a 'Hard Return' in the middle of the quotation which\nyour 'Search' program sometimes will reject.   D.W.]\n\nA child should not be brought up in his mother's lap\nA gallant man does not give over his pursuit for being refused\nA generous heart ought not to belie its own thoughts\nA hundred more escape us than ever come to our knowledge\nA lady could not boast of her chastity who was never tempted\nA little cheese when a mind to make a feast\nA little thing will turn and divert us\nA man may always study, but he must not always go to school\nA man may govern himself well who cannot govern others so\nA man may play the fool in everything else, but not in poetry\nA man must either imitate the vicious or hate them\nA man must have courage to fear\nA man never speaks of himself without loss\nA man should abhor lawsuits as much as he may\nA man should diffuse joy, but, as much as he can, smother grief\nA man's accusations of himself are always believed\nA parrot would say as much as that\nA person's look is but a feeble warranty\nA well-bred man is a compound man\nA well-governed stomach is a great part of liberty\nA word ill taken obliterates ten years' merit\nAbhorrence of the patient are necessary circumstances\nAbominate that incidental repentance which old age brings\nAccept all things we are not able to refute\nAccommodated my subject to my strength\nAccursed be thou, as he that arms himself for fear of death\nAccusing all others of ignorance and imposition\nAcquiesce and submit to truth\nAcquire by his writings an immortal life\nAddict thyself to the study of letters\nAddresses his voyage to no certain, port\nAdmiration is the foundation of all philosophy\nAdvantageous, too, a little to recede from one's right\nAdvise to choose weapons of the shortest sort\nAffect words that are not of current use\nAffection towards their husbands, (not) until they have lost them\nAffirmation and obstinacy are express signs of want of wit\nAffright people with the very mention of death\nAgainst my trifles you could say no more than I myself have said\nAge imprints more wrinkles in the mind than it does on the face\nAgesilaus, what he thought most proper for boys to learn?\nAgitated betwixt hope and fear\nAgitation has usurped the place of reason\nAlexander said, that the end of his labour was to labour\nAll actions equally become and equally honour a wise man\nAll apprentices when we come to it (death)\nAll defence shows a face of war\nAll I aim at is, to pass my time at my ease\nAll I say is by way of discourse, and nothing by way of advice\nAll judgments in gross are weak and imperfect\nAll over-nice solicitude about riches smells of avarice\nAll things have their seasons, even good ones\nAll think he has yet twenty good years to come\nAll those who have authority to be angry in my family\nAlmanacs\nAlways be parading their pedantic science\nAlways complaining is the way never to be lamented\nAlways the perfect religion\nAm as jealous of my repose as of my authority\nAn advantage in judgment we yield to none\n\"An emperor,\" said he, \"must die standing\"\nAn ignorance that knowledge creates and begets\nAncient Romans kept their youth always standing at school\nAnd hate him so as you were one day to love him\nAnd we suffer the ills of a long peace\nAnger and hatred are beyond the duty of justice\nAny argument if it  be carried on with method\nAny old government better than change and alteration\nAny one may deprive us of life; no one can deprive us of death\nAnything appears greatest to him that never knew a greater\nAnything becomes foul when commended by the multitude\nAnything of value in him, let him make it appear in his conduct\nAppetite comes to me in eating\nAppetite is more sharp than one already half-glutted by the eyes\nAppetite runs after that it has not\nAppetite to read more, than glutted with that we have\nApplaud his judgment than commend his knowledge\nApprenticeship and a resemblance of death\nApprenticeships that are to be served beforehand\nApt to promise something less than what I am able to do\nArcher that shoots over, misses as much as he that falls short\nArmed parties (the true school of treason, inhumanity,  robbery\nArrogant ignorance\nArt that could come to the knowledge of but few persons\n\"Art thou not ashamed,\" said he to him, \"to sing so well?\"\nArts of persuasion, to insinuate it into our minds\nAs great a benefit to be without (children)\nAs if anything were so common as ignorance\nAs if impatience were of itself a better remedy than patience\nAs we were formerly by crimes, so we are now overburdened by law\nAshamed to lay out as much thought and study upon it\nAssurance they give us of the certainty of their drugs\nAt least, if they do no good, they will do no harm\nAt the most, but patch you up, and prop you a little\nAttribute facility of belief to simplicity and ignorance\nAttribute to itself; all the happy successes that happen\nAuthority of the number and antiquity of the witnesses\nAuthority to be dissected by the vain fancies of men\nAuthority which a graceful presence and a majestic mien beget\nAvoid all magnificences that will in a short time be forgotten\nAway with that eloquence that enchants us with itself\nAway with this violence!  away with this compulsion!\nBashfulness is an ornament to youth, but a reproach to old age\nBe not angry to no purpose\nBe on which side you will, you have as fair a game to play\nBears well a changed fortune, acting both parts equally well\nBeast of company, as the ancient said, but not of the herd\nBeauty of stature is the only beauty of men\nBecause the people know so well how to obey\nBecome a fool by too much wisdom\nBeing as impatient of commanding as of being commanded\nBeing dead they were then by one day happier than he\nBeing over-studious, we impair our health and spoil our humour\nBelief compared to the impression of a seal upon the soul\nBelieving Heaven concerned at our ordinary actions\nBest part of a captain to know how to make use of occasions\nBest test of truth is the multitude of believers in a crowd\nBest virtue I have has in it some tincture of vice\nBetter at speaking than writing--Motion and action animate word\nbetter have none at all than to have them in so prodigious a num\nBetter to be alone than in foolish and troublesome company\nBlemishes of the great naturally appear greater\nBooks go side by side with me in my whole course\nBooks have many charming qualities to such as know how to choose\nBooks have not so much served me for instruction as exercise\nBooks I read over again, still smile upon me with  fresh novelty\nBooks of things that were never either studied or understood\nBoth himself and his posterity declared ignoble, taxable\nBoth kings and philosophers go to stool\nBurnt and roasted for opinions taken upon trust from others\nBusiness to-morrow\nBut ill proves the honour and beauty of an action by its utility\nBut it is not enough that our education does not spoil us\nBy resenting the lie we acquit ourselves of the fault\nBy suspecting them, have given them a title to do ill\nBy the gods,\" said he, \"if I was not angry, I would execute you\nBy the misery of this life, aiming at bliss in another\nCaesar: he would be thought an excellent engineer to boot\nCaesar's choice of death: \"the shortest\"\nCan neither keep nor enjoy anything with a good grace\nCannot stand the liberty of a friend's advice\nCarnal appetites only supported by use and exercise\nCato said: So many servants, so many enemies\nCeremony forbids us to express by words things that are lawful\nCertain other things that people hide only to show them\nChange is to be feared\nChange of fashions\nChange only gives form to injustice and tyranny\nCherish themselves most where they are most wrong\nChess: this idle and childish game\nChiefly knew himself to be mortal by this act\nChildish ignorance of many very ordinary things\nChildren are amused with toys and men with words\nCicero: on fame\nCivil innocence is measured according to times and places\nCleave to the side that stood most in need of her\ncloak on one shoulder, my cap on one side, a stocking disordered\nCollege: a real house of correction of imprisoned youth\nComing out of the same hole\nCommit themselves to the common fortune\nCommon consolation, discourages and softens me\nCommon friendships will admit of division\nConclude the depth of my sense by its obscurity\nConcluding no beauty can be greater than what they see\nCondemn all violence in the education of a tender soul\nCondemn the opposite affirmation equally\nCondemnations have I seen more criminal than the crimes\nCondemning wine, because some people will be drunk\nConfession enervates reproach and disarms slander\nConfidence in another man's virtue\nConscience makes us betray, accuse, and fight against ourselves\nConscience, which we pretend to be derived from nature\nConsent, and complacency in giving a man's self up to melancholy\nConsoles himself upon the utility and eternity of his writings\nContent: more easily found in want than in abundance\nCounterfeit condolings of pretenders\nCourageous in death, not because his soul is immortal--Socrates\nCourtesy and good manners is a very necessary study\nCrafty humility that springs from presumption\nCrates did worse, who threw himself into the liberty of poverty\nCruelty is the very extreme of all vices\nCulling out of several books the sentences that best please me\nCuriosity and of that eager passion for news\nCuriosity of knowing things has been given to man for a scourge\n\"Custom,\" replied Plato, \"is no little thing\"\nCustoms and laws make justice\nDangerous  man you have deprived of all means to escape\nDangers do, in truth, little or nothing hasten our end\nDearness is a good sauce to meat\nDeath can, whenever we please, cut short inconveniences\nDeath conduces more to birth and augmentation than to loss\nDeath discharges us of all our obligations\nDeath has us every moment by the throat\nDeath is a part of you\nDeath is terrible to Cicero, coveted by Cato\nDeath of old age the most rare and very seldom seen\nDeceit maintains and supplies most men's employment\nDecree that says, \"The court understands nothing of the matter\"\nDefence allures attempt, and defiance provokes an enemy\nDefend most the defects with which we are most tainted\nDefer my revenge to another and better time\nDeformity of the first cruelty makes me abhor all imitation\nDelivered into our own custody the keys of life\nDenying all solicitation, both of hand and mind\nDepend as much upon fortune as anything else we do\nDesire of riches is more sharpened by their use than by the need\nDesire of travel\nDesires, that still increase as they are fulfilled\nDetest in others the defects which are more manifest in us\nDid my discourses came only from my mouth or from my heart\nDid not approve all sorts of means to obtain a victory\nDie well--that is, patiently and tranquilly\nDifference betwixt memory and understanding\nDifficulty gives all things their estimation\nDignify our fopperies when we commit them to the press\nDiogenes, esteeming us no better than flies or bladders\nDiscover what there is of good and clean in the bottom of the po\nDisdainful, contemplative, serious and grave as the ass\nDisease had arrived at its period or an effect of chance?\nDisgorge what we eat in the same condition it was swallowed\nDisguise, by their abridgments and at their own choice\nDissentient and tumultuary drugs\nDiversity of medical arguments and opinions embraces all\nDiverting the opinions and conjectures of the people\nDo not much blame them for making their advantage of our folly\nDo not to pray that all things may go as we would have them\nDo not, nevertheless, always believe myself\nDo thine own work, and know thyself\nDoctors: more felicity and duration in their own lives?\nDoctrine much more intricate and fantastic than the thing itself\nDost thou, then, old man, collect food for others' ears?\nDoubt whether those (old writings) we have be not the worst\nDoubtful ills plague us worst\nDownright and sincere obedience\nDrugs being in its own nature an enemy to our health\nDrunkeness a true and certain trial of every one's nature\nDying appears to him a natural and indifferent accident\nEach amongst you has made somebody cuckold\nEat your bread with the sauce of a more pleasing imagination\nEducation\nEducation ought to be carried on with a severe sweetness\nEffect and performance are not at all in our power\nEither tranquil life, or happy death\nEloquence prejudices the subject it would advance\nEmperor Julian, surnamed the Apostate\nEndeavouring to be brief, I become obscure\nEngaged in the avenues of old age, being already past forty\nEnough to do to comfort myself, without having to console others\nEnslave our own contentment to the power of another?\nEnters lightly into a quarrel is apt to go as lightly out of it\nEntertain us with fables: astrologers and physicians\nEpicurus\nEstablish this proposition by authority and huffing\nEvade this tormenting and unprofitable knowledge\nEven the very promises of physic are incredible in themselves\nEvents are a very poor testimony of our worth and parts\nEvery abridgment of a good book is a foolish abridgment\nEvery day travels towards death; the last only arrives at it\nEvery government has a god at the head of it\nEvery man thinks himself sufficiently intelligent\nEvery place of retirement requires a walk\nEverything has many faces and several aspects\nExamine, who is better learned, than who is more learned\nExcel above the common rate in frivolous things\nExcuse myself from knowing anything which enslaves me to others\nExecutions rather whet than dull the edge of vices\nExpresses more contempt and condemnation than the other\nExtend their anger and hatred beyond the dispute in question\nExtremity of philosophy is hurtful\nFabric goes forming and piling itself up from hand to hand\nFame: an echo, a dream, nay, the shadow of a dream\nFancy that others cannot believe otherwise than as he does\nFantastic gibberish of the prophetic canting\nFar more easy and pleasant to follow than to lead\nFathers conceal their affection from their children\nFault not to discern how far a man's worth extends\nFault will be theirs for having consulted me\nFear and distrust invite and draw on offence\nFear is more importunate and insupportable than death itself\nFear of the fall more fevers me than the fall itself\nFear to lose a thing, which being lost, cannot be lamented?\nFear was not that I should do ill, but that I should do nothing\nFear: begets a terrible astonishment and confusion\nFeared, lest disgrace should make such delinquents desperate\nFeminine polity has a mysterious procedure\nFew men have been admired by their own domestics\nFew men have made a wife of a mistress, who have not repented it\nFirst informed who were to be the other guests\nFirst thing to be considered in love matters: a fitting time\nFlatterer in your old age or in your sickness\nFollies do not make me laugh, it is our wisdom which does\nFolly and absurdity are not to be cured by bare admonition\nFolly of gaping after future things\nFolly satisfied with itself than any reason can reasonably be\nFolly than to be moved and angry at the follies of the world\nFolly to hazard that upon the uncertainty of augmenting it\nFolly to put out their own light and shine by a borrowed lustre\nFor fear of the laws and report of men\nFor who ever thought he wanted sense?\nFortune heaped up five or six such-like incidents\nFortune rules in all things\nFortune sometimes seems to delight in taking us at our word\nFortune will still be mistress of events\nFox, who found fault with what he could not obtain\nFriend, it is not now time to play with your nails\nFriend, the hook will not stick in such soft cheese\nFriendships that the law and natural obligation impose upon us\nFruits of public commotion are seldom enjoyed\nGain to change an ill condition for one that is uncertain\nGave them new and more plausible names for their excuse\nGentleman would play the fool to make a show of defence\nGently to bear the inconstancy of a lover\nGewgaw to hang in a cabinet or at the end of the tongue\nGive but the rind of my attention\nGive me time to recover my strength and health\nGive the ladies a cruel contempt of our natural furniture\nGive these young wenches the things they long for\nGive us history, more as they receive it than as they believe it\nGiving is an ambitious and authoritative quality\nGlory and curiosity are the scourges of the soul\nGo out of ourselves, because we know not how there to reside\nGood does not necessarily succeed evil; another evil may succeed\nGood to be certain and finite, and evil, infinite and uncertain\nGot up but an inch upon the shoulders of the last, but one\nGradations above and below pleasure\nGratify the gods and nature by massacre and murder\nGreat presumption to be so fond of one's own opinions\nGreatest apprehensions, from things unseen, concealed\nGreatest talkers, for the most part, do nothing to purpose\nGreedy humour of new and unknown things\nGrief provokes itself\nGross impostures of religions\nGuess at our meaning under general and doubtful terms\nHappen to do anything commendable, I attribute it to fortune\nHard to resolve a man's judgment against the common opinions\nHaste trips up its own heels, fetters, and stops itself\nHate all sorts of obligation and restraint\nHate remedies that are more troublesome than the disease itself\nHave ever had a great respect for her I loved\nHave more wherewith to defray my journey, than I have way to go\nHave no other title left me to these things but by the ears\nHave you ever found any who have been dissatisfied with dying?\nHaving too good an opinion of our own worth\nHe cannot be good, seeing he is not evil even to the wicked\nHe did not think mankind worthy of a wise man's concern\nHe felt a pleasure and delight in so noble an action\nHe judged other men by himself\nHe may employ his passion, who can make no use of his reason\nHe may well go a foot, they say, who leads his horse in his hand\nHe must fool it a little who would not be deemed wholly a fool\nHe should discern in himself, as well as in others\nHe took himself along with him\nHe who fears he shall suffer, already suffers what he fears\nHe who is only a good man that men may know it\nHe who lays the cloth is ever at the charge of the feast\nHe who lives everywhere, lives nowhere\nHe who provides for all, provides for nothing\nHe who stops not the start will never be able to stop the course\nHe will choose to be alone\nHeadache should come before drunkenness\nHealth depends upon the vanity and falsity of their promises\nHealth is altered and corrupted by their frequent prescriptions\nHealth to be worth purchasing by all the most painful cauteries\nHearing a philosopher talk of military affairs\nHeat and stir up their imagination, and then we find fault\nHelp: no other effect than that of lengthening my suffering\nHigh time to die when there is more ill than good in living\nHoary head and rivelled face of ancient usage\nHobbes said that if he Had been at college as long as others--\nHold a stiff rein upon suspicion\nHome anxieties and a mind enslaved by wearing complaints\nHomer: The only words that have motion and action\nHonour of valour consists in fighting, not in subduing\nHow infirm and decaying material this fabric of ours is\nHow many and many times he has been mistaken in his own judgment\nHow many more have died before they arrived at thy age\nHow many several ways has death to surprise us?\nHow many things,\" said he, \"I do not desire!\"\nHow many worthy men have we known to survive their reputation\nHow much easier is it not to enter in than it is to get out\nHow much it costs him to do no worse\nHow much more insupportable and painful an immortal life\nHow uncertain duration these accidental conveniences are\nHumble out of pride\nHusbands hate their wives only because they themselves do wrong\nI always find superfluity superfluous\nI am a little tenderly distrustful of things that I wish\nI am apt to dream that I dream\nI am disgusted with the world I frequent\nI am hard to be got out, but being once upon the road\nI am no longer in condition for any great change\nI am not to be cuffed into belief\nI am plain and heavy, and stick to the solid and the probable\nI am very glad to find the way beaten before me by others\nI am very willing to quit the government of my house\nI bequeath to Areteus the maintenance of my mother\nI can more hardly believe a man's constancy than any virtue\nI cannot well refuse to play with my dog\nI content myself with enjoying the world without bustle\nI dare not promise but that I may one day be so much a fool\nI do not consider what it is now, but what it was then\nI do not judge opinions by years\nI do not much lament the dead, and should envy them rather\nI do not say that 'tis well said, but well thought\nI do not willingly alight when I am once on horseback\nI enter into confidence with dying\nI ever justly feared to raise my head too high\nI every day hear fools say things that are not foolish\nI find myself here fettered by the laws of ceremony\nI find no quality so easy to counterfeit as devotion\nI for my part always went the plain way to work\nI grudge nothing but care and trouble\nI had much rather die than live upon charity\nI had rather be old a brief time, than be old before old age\nI hail and caress truth in what quarter soever I find it\nI hate all sorts of tyranny, both in word and deed\nI hate poverty equally with pain\nI have a great aversion from a novelty\n\"I have done nothing to-day\"--\"What? have you not lived?\"\nI have lived longer by this one day than I should have done\nI have no mind to die, but I have no objection to be dead\nI have not a wit supple enough to evade a sudden question\nI have nothing of my own that satisfies my judgment\nI honour those most to whom I show the least honour\nI lay no great stress upon my opinions; or of others\nI look upon death carelessly when I look upon it universally\nI love stout expressions amongst gentle men\nI love temperate and moderate natures\nI need not seek a fool from afar; I can laugh at myself\nI owe it rather to my fortune than my reason\nI receive but little advice, I also give but little\nI scorn to mend myself by halves\nI see no people so soon sick as those who take physic\nI speak truth, not so much as I would, but as much as I dare\nI take hold of, as little glorious and exemplary as you will\nI understand my men even by their silence and smiles\nI was always superstitiously afraid of giving offence\nI was too frightened to be ill\n\"I wish you good health\"--\"No health to thee\" replied the other\nI would as willingly be lucky as wise\nI would be rich of myself, and not by borrowing\nI write my book for few men and for few years\nIdleness is to me a very painful labour\nIdleness, the mother of corruption\nIf a passion once prepossess and seize me, it carries me away\nIf I am talking my best, whoever interrupts me, stops me\nIf I stand in need of anger and inflammation, I borrow it\nIf it be a delicious medicine, take it\nIf it be the writer's wit or borrowed from some other\nIf nature do not help a little, it is very hard\nIf they can only be kind to us out of pity\nIf they chop upon one truth, that carries a mighty report\nIf they hear no noise, they think men sleep\nIf to philosophise be, as 'tis defined, to doubt\nIgnorance does not offend me, but the foppery of it\nImpotencies that so unseasonably surprise the lover\nIll luck is good for something\nImagne the mighty will not abase themselves so much as to live\nImitating other men's natures, thou layest aside thy own\nImmoderate either seeking or evading glory or reputation\nImpose them upon me as infallible\nImpostures: very strangeness lends them credit\nImproperly we call this voluntary dissolution, despair\nImpunity pass with us for justice\nIn everything else a man may keep some decorum\nIn ordinary friendships I am somewhat cold and shy\nIn solitude, be company for thyself--Tibullus\nIn sorrow there is some mixture of pleasure\nIn the meantime, their halves were begging at their doors\nIn this last scene of death, there is no more counterfeiting\nIn those days, the tailor took measure of it\nIn war not to drive an enemy to despair\nInclination to love one another at the first sight\nInclination to variety and novelty common to us both\nIncline the history to their own fancy\nInconsiderate excuses are a kind of self-accusation\nInconveniences that moderation brings (in civil war)\nIndiscreet desire of a present cure, that so blind us\nIndocile liberty of this member\nInquisitive after everything\nInsensible of the stroke when our youth dies in us\nInsert whole sections and pages out of ancient authors\nIntelligence is required to be able to know that a man knows not\nIntemperance is the pest of pleasure\nIntended to get a new husband than to lament the old\nInterdict all gifts betwixt man and wife\nInterdiction incites, and who are more eager, being forbidden\nIt (my books) may know many things that are gone from me\nIt happens, as with cages, the birds without despair to get in\nIt is better to die than to live miserable\nIt is no hard matter to get children\nIt is not a book to read, 'tis a book to study and learn\nIt is not for outward show that the soul is to play its part\nIt's madness to nourish infirmity\nJealousy: no remedy but flight or patience\nJudge by justice, and choose men by reason\nJudge by the eye of reason, and not from common report\nJudgment of duty principally lies in the will\nJudgment of great things is many times formed from lesser thing\nJustice als takes cognisance of those who glean after the reaper\nKilling is good to frustrate an offence to come, not to revenge\nKnock you down with the authority of their experience\nKnot is not so sure that a man may not half suspect it will slip\nKnowledge and truth may be in us without judgment\nKnowledge is not so absolutely necessary as judgment\nKnowledge of others, wherein the honour consists\nKnown evil was ever more supportable than one that was, new\nLadies are no sooner ours, than we are no more theirs\nLanguage: obscure and unintelligible in wills and contracts\nLascivious poet: Homer\nLast death will kill but a half or a quarter of a man\nLaw: breeder of altercation and division\nLaws (of Plato on travel), which forbids it after threescore\nLaws cannot subsist without mixture of injustice\nLaws do what they can, when they cannot do what they would\nLaws keep up their credit, not for being just--but as laws\nLay the fault on the voices of those who speak to me\nLaying themselves low to avoid the danger of falling\nLearn my own debility and the treachery of my understanding\nLearn the theory from those who best know the practice\nLearn what it is right to wish\nLearning improves fortunes enough, but not minds\nLeast end of a hair will serve to draw them into my discourse\nLeast touch or prick of a pencil in comparison of the whole\nLeave society when we can no longer add anything to it\nLeaving nothing unsaid, how home and bitter soever\nLed by the ears by this charming harmony of words\nLend himself to others, and only give himself to himself\nLessen the just value of things that I possess\nLet a man take which course he will,\" said he; \"he will repent\"\nLet him be as wise as he will, after all he is but a man\nLet him be satisfied with correcting himself\nLet him examine every man's talent\nLet it alone a little\nLet it be permitted to the timid to hope\nLet not us seek illusions from without and unknown\nLet us not be ashamed to speak what we are not ashamed to think\nLet us not seek our disease out of ourselves; 'tis in us\nLiberality at the expense of others\nLiberty and laziness, the qualities most predominant in me\nLiberty of poverty\nLiberty to lean, but not to lay our whole weight upon others\nLibrary: Tis there that I am in my kingdom\nLicense of judgments is a great disturbance to great affairs\nLife of Caesar has no greater example for us than our own\nLife should be cut off in the sound and living part\nLight griefs can speak: deep sorrows are dumb\nLight prognostics they give of themselves in their tender years\nLittle affairs most disturb us\nLittle knacks  and frivolous subtleties\nLittle learning is needed to form a sound mind\" --Seneca\nLittle less trouble in governing a private family than a kingdom\nLive a quite contrary sort of life to what they prescribe others\nLive at the expense of life itself\nLive, not so long as they please, but as long as they ought\nLiving is slavery if the liberty of dying be wanting\nLiving well, which of all arts is the greatest\nLlaying the fault upon the patient, by such frivolous reasons\nLodge nothing in his fancy upon simple authority and upon trust\nLong a voyage I should at last run myself into some disadvantage\nLong sittings at table both trouble me and do me harm\nLong toleration begets habit; habit, consent and imitation\nLook on death not only without astonishment but without care\nLook upon themselves as a third person only, a stranger\nLook, you who think the gods have no care of human things\nLose what I have a particular care to lock safe up\nLoses more by defending his vineyard than if he gave it up\nLove is the appetite of generation by the mediation of beauty\nLove shamefully and dishonestly cured by marriage\nLove them the less for our own faults\nLove we bear to our wives is very lawful\nLove, full, lively, and sharp; a pleasure inflamed by difficulty\nLoved them for our sport, like monkeys, and not as men\nLower himself to the meanness of defending his innocence\nMade all medicinal conclusions largely give way to my pleasure\nMaking their advantage of our folly, for most men do the same\nMalice must be employed to correct this arrogant ignorance\nMalice sucks up the greatest part of its own venom\nMalicious kind of justice\nMan (must)  know that he is his own\nMan after  who held out his pulse to a physician was a fool\nMan can never be wise but by his own wisdom\nMan may say too much even upon the best subjects\nMan may with less trouble adapt himself to entire abstinence\nMan must approach his wife with prudence and temperance\nMan must have a care not to do his master so great service\nMan must learn that he is nothing but a fool\nMan runs a very great hazard in their hands (of physicians)\nMark of singular good nature to preserve old age\nMarriage\nMarriage rejects the company and conditions of love\nMelancholy: Are there not some constitutions that feed upon it?\nMemories are full enough, but the judgment totally void\nMen approve of things for their being rare and new\nMen are not always to rely upon the personal confessions\nMen as often commend as undervalue me beyond reason\nMen make them (the rules) without their (women's) help\nMen must embark, and not deliberate, upon high enterprises\nMen should furnish themselves with such things as would float\nMercenaries who would receive any (pay)\nMerciful to the man, but not to his wickedness--Aristotle\nMethinks I am no more than half of myself\nMethinks I promise it, if I but say it\nMiracle: everything our reason cannot comprehend\nMiracles and strange events have concealed themselves from me\nMiracles appear to be so, according to our ignorance of nature\nMiserable kind of remedy, to owe one's health to one's disease!\nMiserable, who has not at home where to be by himself\nMisfortunes that only hurt us by being known\nMix railing, indiscretion, and fury in his disputations\nModeration is a virtue that gives more work than suffering\nModesty is a foolish virtue in an indigent person (Homer)\nMore ado to interpret interpretations\nMore books upon books than upon any other subject\nMore brave men been lost in occasions of little moment\nMore solicitous that men speak of us, than how they speak\nMore supportable to be always alone than never to be so\nMore valued a victory obtained by counsel than by force\nMorosity and melancholic humour of a sour ill-natured pedant\nMost cruel people, and upon frivolous occasions, apt to cry\nMost men are rich in borrowed sufficiency\nMost men do not so much believe as they acquiesce and permit\nMost of my actions are guided by example, not by choice\nMothers are too tender\nMotive to some vicious occasion or some prospect of profit\nMuch better to offend him once than myself every day\nMuch difference betwixt us and ourselves\nMust for the most part entertain ourselves with ourselves\nMust of necessity walk in the steps of another\nMy affection alters, my judgment does not\nMy books: from me hold that which I have not retained\nMy dog unseasonably importunes me to play\nMy fancy does not go by itself, as when my legs move it\nMy humour is no friend to tumult\nMy humour is unfit either to speak or write for beginners\nMy innocence is a simple one; little vigour and no art\nMy mind is easily composed at distance\nMy reason is not obliged to bow and bend; my knees are\nMy thoughts sleep if I sit still\nMy words does but injure the love I have conceived within\nNatural death the most rare and very seldom seen\nNature of judgment to have it more deliberate and more slow\nNature of wit is to have its operation prompt and sudden\nNature, who left us in such a state of imperfection\nNearest to the opinions of those with whom they have to do\nNegligent garb, which is yet observable amongst the young men\nNeither be a burden to myself nor to any other\nNeither continency nor virtue where there are no opposing desire\nNeither men nor their lives are measured by the ell\nNeither the courage to die nor the heart to live\nNever any man knew so much, and spake so little\nNever did two men make the same judgment of the same thing\nNever observed any great stability in my soul to resist passions\nNever oppose them either by word or sign, how false or absurd\nNever represent things to you simply as they are\nNever spoke of my money, but falsely, as others do\nNew World: sold it opinions and our arts at a very dear rate\nNnone that less keep their promise(than physicians)\nNo alcohol the night on which a man intends to get children\nNo beast in the world so much to be feared by man as man\nNo danger with them, though they may do us no good\nNo doing more difficult than that not doing, nor more active\nNo effect of virtue, to have stronger arms and legs\nNo evil is honourable; but death is honourable\nNo excellent soul is exempt from a mixture of madness\nNo great choice betwixt not knowing to speak anything but ill--\nNo man continues ill long but by his own fault\nNo man is free from speaking foolish things\nNo man more certain than another of to-morrow--Seneca\nNo necessity upon a man to live in necessity\nNo one can be called happy till he is dead and buried\nNo other foundation or support than public abuse\nNo passion so contagious as that of fear\nNo physic that has not something hurtful in it\nNo use to this age, I throw myself back upon that other\nNo way found  to tranquillity that is good in common\nNoble and rich, where examples of virtue are rarely lodged\nNobody prognosticated that I should be wicked, but only useless\nNoise of arms deafened the voice of laws\nNone of the sex, let her be as ugly as the devil thinks lovable\nNor get children but before I sleep, nor get them standing\nNor have other tie upon one another, but by our word\nNosegay of foreign flowers, having furnished nothing of my own\nNot a victory that puts not an end to the war\nNot being able to govern events, I govern myself\nNot believe from one, I should not believe from a hundred\nNot certain to live till I came home\nNot conceiving things otherwise than by this outward bark\nNot conclude too much upon your mistress's inviolable chastity\nNot for any profit, but for the honour of honesty itself\nNot having been able to pronounce one syllable, which is No!\nNot in a condition to lend must forbid himself to borrow\nNot melancholic, but meditative\nNot to instruct but to be instructed\nNot want, but rather abundance, that creates avarice\nNothing can be a grievance that is but once\nNothing falls where all falls\nNothing is more confident than a bad poet\nNothing is so firmly believed, as what we least know\nNothing is so supple and erratic as our understanding\nNothing noble can be performed without danger\nNothing presses so hard upon a state as innovation\nNothing so grossly, nor so ordinarily faulty, as the laws\nNothing tempts my tears but tears\nNothing that so poisons as flattery\nNumber of fools so much exceeds the wise\nO Athenians, what this man says, I will do\nO my friends, there is no friend: Aristotle\nO wretched men, whose pleasures are a crime\nO, the furious advantage of opportunity!\nObedience is never pure nor calm in him who reasons and disputes\nObliged to his age for having weaned him from pleasure\nObserved the laws of marriage, than I either promised or expect\nObstinacy and contention are common qualities\nObstinacy is the sister of constancy\nObstinancy and heat in argument are the surest proofs of folly\nObstinate in growing worse\nOccasion to La Boetie to write his \"Voluntary Servitude\"\nOccasions of the least lustre are ever the most dangerous\nOccupy our thoughts about the general, and about universal cause\nOf the fleeting years each steals something from me\nOffice of magnanimity openly and professedly to love and hate\nOftentimes agitated with divers passions\nOld age: applaud the past and condemn the present\nOld men who retain the memory of things past\nOmit, as incredible, such things as they do not understand\nOn all occasions to contradict and oppose\nOne door into life, but a hundred thousand ways out\nOne may be humble out of pride\nOne may more boldly dare what nobody thinks you dare\nOne may regret better times, but cannot fly from the present\nOne must first know what is his own and what is not\nOnly desire to become more wise, not more learned or eloquent\nOnly secure harbour from the storms and tempests of life\nOnly set the humours they would purge more violently in work\nOpen speaking draws out discoveries, like wine and love\nOpinions they have of things and not by the things themselves\nOpinions we have are taken on authority and trust\nOpposition and contradiction entertain and nourish them\nOption now of continuing in life or of completing the voyage\nOrder a purge for your brain, it will there be much better\nOrder it so that your virtue may conquer your misfortune\nOrdinances it (Medicine)foists upon us\nOrdinary friendships, you are to walk with bridle in your hand\nOrdinary method of cure is carried on at the expense of life\nOthers adore all of their own side\nOught not only to have his hands, but his eyes, too, chaste\nOught not to expect much either from his vigilance or power\nOught to withdraw and retire his soul from the crowd\nOur extremest pleasure has some sort of groaning\nOur fancy does what it will, both with itself and us\nOur judgments are yet sick\nOur justice presents to us but one hand\nOur knowledge, which is a wretched foundation\nOur qualities have no title but in comparison\nOur will is more obstinate by being opposed\nOver-circumspect and wary prudence is a mortal enemy\nOvervalue things, because they are foreign, absent\nOwe ourselves chiefly and mostly to ourselves\nPassion has a more absolute command over us than reason\nPassion has already confounded his judgment\nPassion of dandling and caressing infants scarcely born\nPay very strict usury who did not in due time pay the principal\nPeople are willing to be gulled in what they desire\nPeople conceiving they have right and title to be judges\nPerfect friendship I speak of is indivisible\nPerfect men as they are, they are yet simply men\nPerfection: but I will not buy it so dear as it costs\nPerpetual scolding of his wife (of Socrates)\nPetulant madness contends with itself\nPhilopoemen: paying the penalty of my ugliness\nPhilosophy\nPhilosophy has discourses proper for childhood\nPhilosophy is nothing but to prepare one's self to die\nPhilosophy is that which instructs us to live\nPhilosophy looked upon as a vain and fantastic name\nPhusicians cure by by misery and pain\nPhysic\nPhysician worse physicked\nPhysician: pass through all the diseases he pretends to cure\nPhysician's \"help\", which is very often an obstacle\nPhysicians are not content to deal only with the sick\nPhysicians fear men should at any time escape their authority\nPhysicians were the only men who might lie at pleasure\nPhysicians: earth covers their failures\nPinch the secret strings of our imperfections\nPitiful ways and expedients to the jugglers of the law\nPity is reputed a vice amongst the Stoics\nPlato angry at excess of sleeping than at excess of drinking\nPlato forbids children wine till eighteen years of age\nPlato said of the Egyptians, that they were all physicians\nPlato says, that the gods made man for their sport\nPlato will have nobody marry before thirty\nPlato: lawyers and physicians are bad institutions of a country\nPlays of children are not performed in play\nPleasing all: a mark that can never be aimed at or hit\nPleasure of telling (a pleasure little inferior to that of doing\nPoets\nPossession begets a contempt of what it holds and rules\nPractical Jokes: Tis unhandsome to fight in play\nPreachers very often work more upon their auditory than  reasons\nPreface to bribe the benevolence of the courteous reader\nPrefer in bed, beauty before goodness\nPreferring the universal and common tie to all national ties\nPremeditation of death is the premeditation of liberty\nPrepare ourselves against the preparations of death\nPresent Him such words as the memory suggests to the tongue\nPresent himself with a halter about his neck to the people\nPresumptive knowledge by silence\nPretending to find out the cause of every accident\nPriest shall on the wedding-day open the way to the bride\nProceed so long as there shall be ink and paper in the world\nProfession of knowledge and their immeasurable self-conceit\nProfit made only at the expense of another\nProlong his life also prolonged and augmented his pain\nProlong your misery an hour or two\nPrudent and just man may be intemperate and inconsistent\nPrudent man, when I imagine him in this posture\nPsalms of King David: promiscuous, indiscreet\nPublic weal requires that men should betray, and lie\nPuerile simplicities of our children\nPure cowardice that makes our belief so pliable\nPut us into a way of extending and diversifying difficulties\nPyrrho's hog\nQuiet repose and a profound sleep without dreams\nRage compelled to excuse itself by a pretence of good-will\nRage it puts them to oppose silence and coldness to their fury\nRash and incessant scolding runs into custom\nRather be a less while old than be old before I am really so\nRather complain of ill-fortune than be ashamed of victory\nRather prating of another man's province than his own\nReading those books, converse with the great and heroic souls\nReasons often anticipate the effect\nRecommendation of strangeness, rarity, and dear purchase\nRefusin  to justify, excuse, or explain myself\nRegret so honourable a post, where necessity must make them bold\nRemotest witness knows more about it than those who were nearest\nRepresented her a little too passionate for a married Venus\nReputation: most useless, frivolous, and false coin that passes\nRepute for value in them, not what they bring to us\nReserve a backshop, wholly our own and entirely free\nResolved to bring nothing to it but expectation and patience\nRest satisfied, without desire of prolongation of life or name\nRestoring what has been lent us, wit  usury and accession\nRevenge more wounds our children than it heals us\nRevenge, which afterwards produces a series of new cruelties\nReverse of truth has a hundred thousand forms\nRhetoric: an art to flatter and deceive\nRhetoric: to govern a disorderly and tumultuous rabble\nRicher than we think we are; but we are taught to borrow\nRidiculous desire of riches when we have lost the use of them\nRight of command appertains to the beautiful-Aristotle\nRome was more valiant before she grew so learned\nRowers who so advance backward\nRude and quarrelsome flatly to deny a stated fact\nSame folly as to be sorry we were not alive a hundred years ago\nSatisfaction of mind to have only one path to walk in\nSatisfied and pleased with and in themselves\nSay of some compositions that they stink of oil and of the lamp\nScratching is one of nature's sweetest gratifications\nSeason a denial with asperity, suspense, or favour\nSee how flexible our reason is\nSeek the quadrature of the circle, even when on their wives\nSeeming anger, for the better governing of my house\nSend us to the better air of some other country\nSense: no one who is not contented with his share\nSetting too great a value upon ourselves\nSetting too little a value upon others\nSettled my thoughts to live upon less than I have\nSex: To put fools and wise men, beasts and us, on a level\nShake the truth of our Church by the vices of her ministers\nShame for me to serve, being so near the reach of liberty\nSharps and sweets of marriage, are kept secret by the wise\nShe who only refuses, because 'tis forbidden, consents\nShelter my own weakness under these great reputations\nShort of the foremost, but before the last\nShould first have mended their breeches\nSilence, therefore, and modesty are very advantageous qualities\nSilent mien procured the credit of prudence and capacity\nSins that make the least noise are the worst\nSitting betwixt two stools\nSlaves, or exiles, ofttimes live as merrily as other folk\nSleep suffocates and suppresses the faculties of the soul\nSmile upon us whilst we are alive\nSo austere and very wise countenance and carriage--of physicians\nSo many trillions of men, buried before us\nSo much are men enslaved to their miserable being\nSo that I could have said no worse behind their backs\nSo weak and languishing, as not to have even wishing left to him\nSocrates kept a confounded scolding wife\nSocrates: According to what a man can\nSoft, easy, and wholesome pillow is ignorance and incuriosity\nSolon said that eating was physic against the malady hunger\nSolon, that none can be said to be happy until he is dead\nsome people rude, by being overcivil  in their courtesy\nSome wives covetous indeed, but very few that are good managers\nSometimes the body first submits to age, sometimes the mind\nSouls that are regular and strong of themselves are rare\nSparing and an husband of his knowledge\nSpeak less of one's self than what one really is is folly\nSpectators can claim no interest in the honour and pleasure\nStilpo lost wife, children, and goods\nStilpo: thank God, nothing was lost of his\nStrangely suspect all this merchandise: medical care\nStrong memory is commonly coupled with infirm judgment\nStudied, when young, for ostentation, now for diversion\nStudies, to teach me to do, and not to write\nStudy makes me sensible how much I have to learn\nStudy of books is a languishing and feeble motion\nStudy to declare what is justice, but never took care to do it\nStumble upon a truth amongst an infinite number of lies\nStupidity and facility natural to the common people\nStyle wherewith men establish religions and laws\nSubdividing these subtilties we teach men to increase their doub\nSuch a recipe as they will not take themselves\nSuffer my judgment to be made captive by prepossession\nSuffer those inconveniences which are not possibly to be avoided\nSufficiently covered by their virtue without any other robe\nSuicide: a morsel that is to be swallowed without chewing\nSuperstitiously to seek out in the stars the ancient causes\nSwell and puff up their souls, and their natural way of speaking\nSwim in troubled waters without fishing in them\nTake a pleasure in being uninterested in other men's affairs\nTake all things at the worst, and to resolve to bear that worst\nTake my last leave of every place I depart from\nTake two sorts of grist out of the same sack\nTaking things upon trust from vulgar opinion\nTaught to be afraid of professing our ignorance\nTaught to consider sleep as a resemblance of death\nTearing a body limb from limb by racks and torments\nTestimony of the truth from minds prepossessed by custom?\nThat he could neither read nor swim\nThat looks a nice well-made shoe to you\nThat we may live, we cease to live\nThat which cowardice itself has chosen for its refuge\nThe action is commendable, not the man\nThe age we live in produces but very indifferent things\nThe authors, with whom I converse\nThe Babylonians carried their sick into the public square\nThe best authors too much humble and discourage me\nThe Bible: the wicked and ignorant grow worse by it\nThe cause of truth ought to be the common cause\nThe conduct of our lives is the true mirror of our doctrine\nThe consequence of common examples\nThe day of your birth is one day's advance towards the grave\nThe deadest deaths are the best\nThe event often justifies a very foolish conduct\nThe faintness that surprises in the exercises of Venus\nThe gods sell us all the goods they give us\nThe good opinion of the vulgar is injurious\nThe honour we receive from those that fear us is not honour\nThe ignorant return from the combat full of joy and triumph\nThe impulse of nature, which is a rough counsellor\nThe last informed is better persuaded than the first\nThe mean is best\nThe mind grows costive and thick in growing old\nThe most manifest sign of wisdom is a continual cheerfulness\nThe most voluntary death is the finest\nThe particular error first makes the public error\nThe pedestal is no part of the statue\nThe privilege of the mind to rescue itself from old age\nThe reward of a thing well done is to have done it\nThe satiety of living, inclines a man to desire to die\nThe sick man has not to complain who has his cure in his sleeve\nThe storm is only begot by a concurrence of angers\nThe thing in the world I am most afraid of is fear\nThe very name Liberality sounds of Liberty\nThe vice opposite to curiosity is negligence\nThe virtue of the soul does not consist in flying high\nTheir disguises and figures only serve to cosen fools\nTheir labour is not to delivery, but about conception\nTheir pictures are not here who were cast away\nTheir souls seek repose in agitation\nThere are defeats more triumphant than victories\nThere are some upon whom their rich clothes weep\nThere can be no pleasure to me without communication\nThere is more trouble in keeping money than in getting it\nThere is no allurement like modesty, if it be not rude\nThere is no long, nor short, to things that are no more\nThere is no merchant that always gains\nThere is no reason that has not its contrary\nThere is no recompense becomes virtue\nThere is none of us who would not be worse than kings\nThere is nothing I hate so much as driving a bargain\nThere is nothing like alluring the appetite and affections\nThere is nothing single and rare in respect of nature\nThese sleepy, sluggish sort of men are often the most dangerous\nThey (good women) are not by the dozen, as every one knows\nThey begin to teach us to live when we have almost done living\nThey better conquer us by flying\nThey buy a cat in a sack\nThey can neither lend nor give anything to one another\nThey do not see my heart, they see but my countenance\nThey err as much who too much forbear Venus\nThey gently name them, so they patiently endure them (diseases)\nThey have heard, they have seen, they have done so and so\nThey have not one more invention left wherewith to amuse us\nThey have not the courage to suffer themselves to be corrected\nThey have yet touched nothing of that which is mine\nThey juggle and trifle in all their discourses at our expense\nThey must be very hard to please, if they are not contented\nThey must become insensible and invisible to satisfy us\nThey neither instruct us to think well nor to do well\nThey never loved them till dead\nThey who would fight custom with grammar are triflers\nThing at which we all aim, even in virtue is pleasure\nThings grow familiar to men's minds by being often seen\nThings I say are better than those I write\nThings often appear greater to us at distance than near at hand\nThings seem greater by imagination than they are in effect\nThings that engage us elsewhere and separate us from ourselves\nThink myself no longer worth my own care\nThink of physic as much good or ill as any one would have me\nThinking nothing done, if anything remained to be done\nThinks nothing profitable that is not painful\nThis decay of nature which renders him useless, burdensome\nThis plodding occupation of bookes is as painfull as any other\nThose immodest and debauched tricks and postures\nThose oppressed with sorrow sometimes surprised by a smile\nThose which we fear the least are, peradventure, most to be fear\nThose who can please and hug themselves in what they do\nThose within (marriage) despair of getting out\nThou diest because thou art living\nThou wilt not feel it long if thou feelest it too much\nThough I be engaged to one forme, I do not tie the world unto it\nThough nobody should read me, have I wasted time\nThreats of the day of judgment\nThucydides: which was the better wrestler\nThy own cowardice is the cause, if thou livest in pain\nTis all swine's flesh, varied by sauces\nTis an exact life that maintains itself in due order in private\nTis better to lean towards doubt than assurance--Augustine\nTis evil counsel that will admit no change\nTis far beyond not fearing death to taste and relish it\nTis for youth to subject itself to common opinions\nTis impossible to deal fairly with a fool\nTis in some sort a kind of dying to avoid the pain of living well\nTis more laudable to obey the bad than the good\nTis no matter; it may be of use to some others\nTis not the cause, but their interest, that inflames them\nTis not the number of men, but the number of good men\nTis said of Epimenides, that he always prophesied backward\nTis so I melt and steal away from myself\nTis the sharpnss of our mind that gives the edge to our pains\nTis then no longer correction, but revenge\nTis there she talks plain French\nTitillation of ill-natured pleasure in seeing others suffer\nTitle of barbarism to everything that is not familiar\nTitles being so dearly bought\nTitles of my chapters do not always comprehend the whole matter\nTo be a slave, incessantly to be led by the nose by one's self\nTo be, not to seem\nTo condemn them as impossible, is by a temerarious presumption\nTo contemn what we do not comprehend\nTo die of old age is a death rare, extraordinary, and singular\nTo do well where there was danger was the proper office\nTo forbear doing is often as generous as to do\nTo forbid us anything is to make us have a mind to't\nTo fret and vex at folly, as I do, is folly itself\nTo give a currency to his little pittance of learning\nTo go a mile out of their way to hook in a fine word\nTo keep me from dying is not in your power\nTo kill men, a clear and strong light is required\nTo know by rote, is no knowledge\nTo make little things appear great was his profession\nTo make their private advantage at the public expense\nTo smell, though well, is to stink\nTo study philosophy is nothing but to prepare one's self to die\nTo what friend dare you intrust your griefs\nTo whom no one is ill who can be good?\nTongue will grow too stiff to bend\nToo contemptible to be punished\nTorture: rather a trial of patience than of truth\nTotally brutified by an immoderate thirst after knowledge\nTransferring of money from the right owners to strangers\nTravel with not only a necessary, but a handsome equipage\nTrue liberty is to be able to do what a man will with himself\nTruly he, with a great effort will shortly say a mighty trifle\nTruth itself has not the privilege to be spoken at all times\nTruth, that for being older it is none the wiser\nTurks have alms and hospitals for beasts\nTurn up my eyes to heaven to return thanks, than to crave\nTutor to the ignorance and folly of the first we meet\nTwas a happy marriage betwixt a blind wife and a deaf husband\nTwenty people prating about him when he is at stool\nTwo opinions alike, no more than two hairs\nTwo principal guiding reins are reward and punishment\nTyrannic sourness not to endure a form contrary to one's own\nTyrannical authority physicians usurp over poor creatures\nUnbecoming rudeness to carp at everything\nUnder fortune's favour, to prepare myself for her disgrace\nUniversal judgments that I see so common, signify nothing\nUnjust judges of their actions, as they are of ours\nUnjust to exact from me what I do not owe\nUpon the precipice, 'tis no matter who gave you the push\nUse veils from us the true aspect of things\nUtility of living consists not in the length of days\nValour has its bounds as well as other virtues\nValour whetted and enraged by mischance\nValour will cause a trembling in the limbs as well as fear\nValuing the interest of discipline\nVast distinction betwixt devotion and conscience\nVenture it upon his neighbour, if he will let him\nventure the making ourselves better without any danger\nVery idea we invent for their chastity is ridiculous\nVice of confining their belief to their own capacity\nVices will cling together, if a man have not a care\nVictorious envied the conquered\nVirtue and ambition, unfortunately, seldom lodge together\nVirtue is a pleasant and gay quality\nVirtue is much strengthened by combats\nVirtue refuses facility for a companion\nViscid melting kisses of youthful ardour in my wanton age\nVoice and determination of the rabble, the mother of ignorance\nVulgar reports and opinions that drive us on\nWe are masters of nothing but the will\nWe are not to judge of counsels by events\nWe ask most when we bring least\nWe believe we do not believe\nWe can never be despised according to our full desert\nWe cannot be bound beyond what we are able to perform\nWe confess our ignorance in many things\nWe consider our death as a very great thing\nWe do not correct the man we hang; we correct others by him\nWe do not easily accept the medicine we understand\nWe do not go, we are driven\nWe do not so much forsake vices as we change them\nWe have lived enough for others\nWe have more curiosity than capacity\nWe have naturally a fear of pain, but not of death\nWe have not the thousandth part of ancient writings\nWe have taught the ladies to blush\nWe much more aptly imagine an artisan upon his close-stool\nWe must learn to suffer what we cannot evade\nWe neither see far forward nor far backward\nWe only labour to stuff the memory\nWe ought to grant free passage to diseases\nWe say a good marriage because no one says to the contrary\nWe set too much value upon ourselves\nWe still carry our fetters along with us\nWe take other men's knowledge and opinions upon trust\nWeakness and instability of a private and particular fancy\nWeigh, as wise: men should, the burden of obligation\nWell, and what if it had been death itself?\nWere more ambitious of a great reputation than of a good one\nWhat a man says should be what he thinks\nWhat are become of all our brave philosophical precepts?\nWhat can they not do, what do they fear to do (for beauty)\nWhat can they suffer who do not fear to die?\nWhat did I say?  that I have?  no, Chremes, I had\nWhat he did by nature and accident, he cannot do by design\nWhat is more accidental than reputation?\nWhat may be done to-morrow, may be done to-day\nWhat more?  they lie with their lovers learnedly\nWhat need have they of anything but to live beloved and honoured\nWhat sort of wine he liked the best: \"That of another\"\nWhat step ends the near and what step begins the remote\nWhat they ought to do when they come to be men\nWhat we have not seen, we are forced to receive from other hands\nWhat, shall so much knowledge be lost\nWhatever was not ordinary diet, was instead of a drug\nWhen I travel I have nothing to care for but myself\nWhen jealousy seizes these poor souls\nWhen their eyes give the lie to their tongue\nWhen time begins to wear things out of memory\nWhen we have got it, we want something else\n\"When will this man be wise,\" said he, \"if he is yet learning?\"\nWhen you see me moved first, let me alone, right or wrong\nWhere the lion's skin is too short\nWhere their profit is, let them there have their pleasure too\nWherever the mind is perplexed, it is in an entire disorder\nWhilst thou wast silent, thou seemedst to be some great thing\nWhimpering is offensive to the living and vain to the dead\nWho by their fondness of some fine sounding word\nWho can  flee from himself\nWho discern no riches but in pomp and show\nWho does not boast of some rare recipe\nWho escapes being talked of at the same rate\nWho ever saw one physician approve of another's prescription\nWho has once been a very fool, will never after be very wise\nWho would weigh him without the honour and grandeur of his end\nWhoever expects punishment already suffers it\nWhoever will be cured of ignorance must confess it\nWhoever will call to mind the excess of his past anger\nWhosoever despises his own life, is always master\nWhy do we not imitate the Roman architecture?\nWide of the mark in judging of their own works\nWillingly give them leave to laugh after we are dead\nWillingly slip the collar of command upon any pretence whatever\nWisdom has its excesses, and has no less need of moderation\nWisdom is folly that does not accommodate itself to the common\nWise man lives as long as he ought, not so long as he can\nWise man never loses anything if he have himself\nWise man to keep a curbing hand upon the impetus of friendship\nWise may learn more of fools, than fools can of the wise\nWise whose invested money is visible in beautiful villas\nWiser who only know what is needful for them to know\nWith being too well I am about to die\nWoman who goes to bed to a man, must put off her modesty\nWomen who paint, pounce, and plaster up their ruins\nWont to give others their life, and not to receive it\nWorld where loyalty of one's own children is unknown\nWorse endure an ill-contrived robe than an ill-contrived mind\nWould have every one in his party blind or a blockhead\nWould in this affair have a man a little play the servant\nWrangling arrogance, wholly believing and trusting in itself\nWretched and dangerous thing to depend upon others\nWrite what he knows, and as much as he knows, but no more\nWrong the just side when they go about to assist it with fraud\nYet at least for ambition's sake, let us reject ambition\nYet do we find any end of the need of interpretating?\nYou and companion are theatre enough to one another\nYou have lost a good captain, to make of him a bad general\nYou may indeed make me die an ill death\nYou must first see us die\nYou must let yourself down to those with whom you converse\nYoung and old die upon the same terms\nYoung are to make their preparations, the old to enjoy them","title":"Widger's Quotations from the Project Gutenberg Editions of the Works of Montaigne","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":26176}