{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_3749/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_3749","id":"gutenberg_3749","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3749","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Project Gutenberg","Quotations"],"text":"Ver.07/12/01*END*\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 CONFESSIONS OF JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU\n\n\n\n\n\nEDITOR'S NOTE\n\nReaders acquainted with the Rousseau's Confessions  may wish to see\nif 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:\nhttp://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\n\nCONTENTS: (in reversed order)\n\nApr 2003 Entire Confessions of J.J.Rousseau, Book 13[JJ#13][jj13b10.txt]3913\nApr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 12 [JJ#12][jj12b10.txt]3912\nApr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 11 [JJ#11][jj11b10.txt]3911\nApr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 10 [JJ#10][jj10b10.txt]3910\nApr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 9  [JJ#09][jj09b10.txt]3909\nApr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 8  [JJ#08][jj08b10.txt]3908\nApr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 7  [JJ#07][jj07b10.txt]3907\nApr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 6  [JJ#06][jj06b10.txt]3906\nApr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 5  [JJ#05][jj05b10.txt]3905\nApr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 4  [JJ#04][jj04b10.txt]3904\nApr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 3  [JJ#03][jj03b10.txt]3903\nApr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 2  [JJ#02][jj02b10.txt]3902\nApr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 1  [JJ#01][jj01b10.txt]3901\n\n\n\n\n\n                 THE CONFESSIONS OF JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU\n\n\nTHE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 1\n[JJ#01][jj01b10.txt]3901\n\nA feeling heart the foundation of all my misfortunes\nBeing beat like a slave, I judged I had a right to all vices\nDegree of sensuality had mingled with the smart and shame\nFirst instance of violence and oppression is so deeply engraved\nHold fast to aught that I have, and yet covet nothing more\nInsignificant trash that has obtained the name of education\nLaw that the accuser should be confined at the same time\nLess degree of repugnance in divulging what is really criminal\nMoney that we possess is the instrument of liberty\nMoney we lack and strive to obtain is the instrument of slavery\nNecessity, the parent of industry, suggested an invention\nNeither the victim nor witness of any violent emotions\nPassed my days in languishing in silence for those I most admire\nRogues know how to save themselves at the expense of the feeble\nSeeking, by fresh offences, a return of the same chastisement\nSupposed that certain, which I only knew to be probable\nTaught me it was not so terrible to thieve as I had imagined\nWe learned to dissemble, to rebel, to lie\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 2\n[JJ#02][jj02b10.txt]3902\n\nA man, on being questioned, is immediately on his guard\nA religion preached by such missionaries must lead to paradise!\nAversion to singularity\nAvoid putting our interests in competition with our duty\nCatholic must content himself with the decisions of others\nDisgusted with the idle trifling of a convent\nDissembler, though, in fact, I was only courteous\nEver appearing to feel as little for others as herself\nFlattery, or rather condescension, is not always a vice\nHopes, in which self-love was by no means a loser\nI did not fear punishment, but I dreaded shame\nI felt no dread but that of being detected\nI only wished to avoid giving offence\nInstead of being delighted with the journey only wished arrival\nLeft to nature the whole care of my own instruction\nMaking me sensible of every deficiency\nMyself the principal object\nObtain their wishes, without permitting or promising anything\nPiety was too sincere to give way to any affectation of it\nPlacing unbounded confidence in myself and others\nProportioned rather to her ideas than abilities\nProtestants, in general, are better instructed\nRead the hearts of others by endeavoring to conceal our own\nRemorse sleeps in the calm sunshine of prosperity\nRemorse wakes amid the storms of adversity\nSometimes encourage hopes they never mean to realize\nThe conscience of the guilty would revenge the innocent\nWhere merit consists in belief, and not in virtue\nWhole universe would be interested in my concerns\nYielded him the victory, or rather declined the contest\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 3\n[JJ#03][jj03b10.txt]3903\n\nA subject not even fit to make a priest of\nEndeavoring to hide my incapacity, I rarely fail to show it\nEndeavoring to rise too high we are in danger of falling\nForesight with me has always embittered enjoyment\nHat only fit to be carried under his arm\nLove of the marvellous is natural to the human heart\nMistake wit for sense\nPriests ought never to have children--except by married women\nRather appeared to study with than to instruct me\nThough not a fool, I have frequently passed for one\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 4\n[JJ#04][jj04b10.txt]3904\n\nHave ever preferred suffering to owing\nI was long a child, and am so yet in many particulars\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 5\n[JJ#05][jj05b10.txt]3905\n\nAdopted the jargon of books, than the knowledge they contained\nDying for love without an object\nHave the pleasure of seeing an ass ride on horseback\nIdleness is as much the pest of society as of solitude\nIf you have nothing to do, you must absolutely speak continually\nIn a nation of blind men, those with one eye are kings\nInjustice of mankind which embitters both life and death\nNot so easy to quit her house as to enter it\nSin consisted only in the scandal\nTrusting too implicitly to their own innocence\nVoltaire was formed never to be (happy)\nWhen everyone is busy, you may continue silent\nWhose discourses began by a distribution of millions\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 6\n[JJ#06][jj06b10.txt]3906\n\nAll animals are distrustful of man, and with reason\nArdor for learning became so far a madness\nConversations were more serviceable than his prescriptions\nFinding in every disease symptoms similar to mine\nFirst time in my life, of saying, \"I merit my own esteem\"\nLooking on each day as the last of my life\nMaking their knowledge the measure of possibilities\nMen, in general, make God like themselves\nOne of those affronts which women scarcely ever forgive\nPrescriptions serve to flatter the hopes of the patient\nRead description of any malady without thinking it mine\nRead without studying\nReturn of spring seemed to me like rising from the grave\nSlighting her favors, if within your reach, a unpardonable crime\nTrue happiness is indescribable, it is only to be felt\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 7\n[JJ#07][jj07b10.txt]3907\n\nI am charged with the care of myself only\nI strove to flatter my idleness\nMen of learning more tenaciously retain their predjudices\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 8\n[JJ#08][jj08b10.txt]3908\n\nAll your evils proceed from yourselves\nConsidering this want of decency as an act of courage\nDie without the aid of physicians\nI had a numerous acquaintance, yet no more than two friends\nKnew how to complain, but not how to act\nMoment I acquired literary fame, I had no longer a friend\nThere is no clapping of hands before the king\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 9\n[JJ#09][jj09b10.txt]3909\n\nAn author must be independent of success\nCemented by reciprocal esteem\nDifficult to think nobly when we think for a livelihood\nDine at the hour of supper; sup when I should have been asleep\nForce me to be happy in the manner they should point out\nHastening on to death without having lived\nHow many wrongs are effaced by the embraces of a friend\nI loved her too well to wish to possess her\nI never heard her speak ill of persons who were absent\nIdea of my not being everything to her\nIn the course of their lives frequently unlike themselves\nIs it possible to dissimulate with persons whom we love?\nLetters illustrious in proportion as it was less a trade\nLoaded with words and redundancies\nMake men like himself, instead of taking them as they were\nManoeuvres of an author to the care of publishing a good book\nNo longer permitted to let old people remain out of Paris\nNo sooner had lost sight of men than I ceased to despise them\nNot knowing how to spend their time, daily breaking in upon me\nPainful to an honest man to resist desires already formed\nRather bashful than modest\nThis continued desire to control me in all my wishes\nTo make him my apologies for the offence he had given me\nTyranny of persons who called themselves my friends\nVirtuous minds, which vice never attacks openly\nWhen once we make a secret of anything to the person we love\nWithout the least scruple, freely disposing of my time\nWriting for bread would soon have extinguished my genius\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 10\n[JJ#10][jj10b10.txt]3910\n\nIndolence, negligence and delay in little duties to be fulfilled\nJean Bapiste Rousseau\nMy greatest faults have been omissions\nSatisfaction of weeping together\nThe malediction of knaves is the glory of an honest man\nThere is nothing in this world but time and misfortune\nWhat facility everything which favors the malignity of man\nWhence comes it that even a child can intimidate a man\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 11\n[JJ#11][jj11b10.txt]3911\n\nCaution is needless after the evil has happened\nHer excessive admiration or dislike of everything\nMore folly than candor in the declaration without necessity\nMultiplying persons and adventures\nThat which neither women nor authors ever pardon\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 12\n[JJ#12][jj12b10.txt]3912\n\nBilboquet\nI never much regretted sleep\nIn company I suffer cruelly by inaction\nIndolence of company is burdensome because it is forced\nMore stunned than flattered by the trumpet of fame\nNothing absurd appears to them incredible\nObliged to pay attention to every foolish thing uttered\nOnly prayer consisted in the single interjection \"Oh!\"\nReproach me with so many contradictions\nSubstituting cunning to knowledge\nWish thus to be revenged of me for their humiliation\n\n\n\n\nENTIRE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 13\n[JJ#13][jj13b10.txt]3913\n\nA feeling heart the foundation of all my misfortunes\nA religion peached by such missionaries must lead to paradise!\nA subject not even fit to make a priest of\nA man, on being questioned, is immediately on his guard\nAdopted the jargon of books, than the knowledge they contained\nAll animals are distrustful of man, and with reason\nAll your evils proceed from yourselves!\nAn author must be independent of success\nArdor for learning became so far a madness\nAversion to singularity\nAvoid putting our interests in competition with our duty\nBeing beat like a slave, I judged I had a right to all vices\nBilboquet\nCatholic must content himself with the decisions of others\nCaution is needless after the evil has happened\nCemented by reciprocal esteem\nConsidering this want of decency as an act of courage\nConversations were more serviceable than his prescriptions\nDegree of sensuality had mingled with the smart and shame\nDie without the aid of physicians\nDifficult to think nobly when we think for a livelihood\nDine at the hour of supper; sup when I should have been asleep\nDisgusted with the idle trifling of a convent\nDissembler, though, in fact, I was only courteous\nDying for love without an object\nEndeavoring to hide my incapacity, I rarely fail to show it\nEndeavoring to rise too high we are in danger of falling\nEver appearing to feel as little for others as herself\nFinding in every disease symptoms similar to mine\nFirst instance of violence and oppression is so deeply engraved\nFirst time in my life, of saying, \"I merit my own esteem\"\nFlattery, or rather condescension, is not always a vice\nForce me to be happy in the manner they should point out\nForesight with me has always embittered enjoyment\nHastening on to death without having lived\nHat, only fit to be carried under his arm\nHave the pleasure of seeing an ass ride on horseback\nHave ever preferred suffering to owing\nHer excessive admiration or dislike of everything\nHold fast to aught that I have, and yet covet nothing more\nHopes, in which self-love was by no means a loser\nHow many wrongs are effaced by the embraces of a friend!\nI never much regretted sleep\nI strove to flatter my idleness\nI never heard her speak ill of persons who were absent\nI loved her too well to wish to possess her\nI felt no dread but that of being detected\nI was long a child, and am so yet in many particulars\nI am charged with the care of myself only\nI only wished to avoid giving offence\nI did not fear punishment, but I dreaded shame\nI had a numerous acquaintance, yet no more than two friends\nIdea of my not being everything to her\nIdleness is as much the pest of society as of solitude\nIf you have nothing to do, you must absolutely speak continually\nIn the course of their lives frequently unlike themselves\nIn company I suffer cruelly by inaction\nIn a nation of blind men, those with one eye are kings\nIndolence, negligence and delay in little duties to be fulfilled\nIndolence of company is burdensome because it is forced\nInjustice of mankind which embitters both life and death\nInsignificant trash that has obtained the name of education\nInstead of being delighted with the journey only wished arrival\nIs it possible to dissimulate with persons whom we love?\nJean Bapiste Rousseau\nKnew how to complain, but not how to act\nLaw that the accuser should be confined at the same time\nLeft to nature the whole care of my own instruction\nLess degree of repugnance in divulging what is really criminal\nLetters illustrious in proportion as it was less a trade\nLoaded with words and redundancies\nLooking on each day as the last of my life\nLove of the marvellous is natural to the human heart\nMake men like himself, instead of taking them as they were\nMaking their knowledge the measure of possibilities\nMaking me sensible of every deficiency\nManoeuvres of an author to the care of publishing a good book\nMen, in general, make God like themselves\nMen of learning more tenaciously retain their predjudices\nMistake wit for sense\nMoment I acquired literary fame, I had no longer a friend\nMoney that we possess is the instrument of liberty\nMoney we lack and strive to obtain is the instrument of slavery\nMore stunned than flattered by the trumpet of fame\nMore folly than candor in the declaration without necessity\nMultiplying persons and adventures\nMy greatest faults have been omissions\nMyself the principal object\nNecessity, the parent of industry, suggested an invention\nNeither the victim nor witness of any violent emotions\nNo sooner had lost sight of men than I ceased to despise them\nNo longer permitted to let old people remain out of Paris\nNot so easy to quit her house as to enter it\nNot knowing how to spend their time, daily breaking in upon me\nNothing absurd appears to them incredible\nObliged to pay attention to every foolish thing uttered\nObtain their wishes, without permitting or promising anything\nOne of those affronts which women scarcely ever forgive\nOnly prayer consisted in the single interjection \"Oh!\"\nPainful to an honest man to resist desires already formed\nPassed my days in languishing in silence for those I most admire\nPiety was too sincere to give way to any affectation of it\nPlacing unbounded confidence in myself and others\nPrescriptions serve to flatter the hopes of the patient\nPriests ought never to have children--except by married women\nProportioned rather to her ideas than abilities\nProtestants, in general, are better instructed\nRather bashful than modest\nRather appeared to study with than to instruct me\nRead the hearts of others by endeavoring to conceal our own\nRead description of any malady without thinking it mine\nRead without studying\nRemorse wakes amid the storms of adversity\nRemorse sleeps in the calm sunshine of prosperity\nReproach me with so many contradictions\nReturn of spring seemed to me like rising from the grave\nRogues know how to save themselves at the expense of the feeble\nSatisfaction of weeping together\nSeeking, by fresh offences, a return of the same chastisement\nSin consisted only in the scandal\nSlighting her favors, if within your reach, a unpardonable crime\nSometimes encourage hopes they never mean to realize\nSubstituting cunning to knowledge\nSupposed that certain, which I only knew to be probable\nTaught me it was not so terrible to thieve as I had imagined\nThat which neither women nor authors ever pardon\nThe malediction of knaves is the glory of an honest man\nThe conscience of the guilty would revenge the innocent\nThere is nothing in this world but time and misfortune\nThere is no clapping of hands before the king\nThis continued desire to control me in all my wishes\nThough not a fool, I have frequently passed for one\nTo make him my apologies for the offence he had given me\nTrue happiness is indescribable, it is only to be felt\nTrusting too implicitly to their own innocence\nTyranny of persons who called themselves my friends\nVirtuous minds, which vice never attacks openly\nVoltaire was formed never to be(happy)\nWe learned to dissemble, to rebel, to lie\nWhat facility everything which favors the malignity of man\nWhen once we make a secret of anything to the person we love\nWhen everyone is busy, you may continue silent\nWhence comes it that even a child can intimidate a man\nWhere merit consists in belief, and not in virtue\nWhole universe would be interested in my concerns\nWhose discourses began by a distribution of millions\nWish thus to be revenged of me for their humiliation\nWithout the least scruple, freely disposing of my time\nWriting for bread would soon have extinguished my genius\nYielded him the victory, or rather declined the contest","title":"Widger's Quotations from Project Gutenberg Edition of The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":3055}