{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_7555/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_7555","id":"gutenberg_7555","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7555","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: French Literature","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Quotations"],"text":"Produced by David Widger\n\n\n\n\nQUOTES AND IMAGES: CONFESSIONS OF ROUSSEAU\n\n\n\n\nCONFESSIONS OF ROUSSEAU\n\n\nBy Jean Jacques Rousseau\n\n\n\n\nA feeling heart the foundation of all\nmy misfortunes\n\nA religion preached by such\nmissionaries must lead to paradise!\n\nA subject not even fit to make a priest\nof\n\nA man, on being questioned, is\nimmediately on his guard\n\nAdopted the jargon of books, than the\nknowledge they contained\n\nAll animals are distrustful of man, and\nwith reason\n\nAll your evils proceed from yourselves!\n\nAn author must be independent of\nsuccess\n\nArdor for learning became so far a\nmadness\n\nAversion to singularity\n\nAvoid putting our interests in\ncompetition with our duty\n\nBeing beat like a slave, I judged I had\na right to all vices\n\nBilboquet\n\nCatholic must content himself with the\ndecisions of others\n\nCaution is needless after the evil has\nhappened\n\nCemented by reciprocal esteem\n\nConsidering this want of decency as an\nact of courage\n\nConversations were more serviceable\nthan his prescriptions\n\nDegree of sensuality had mingled with\nthe smart and shame\n\nDie without the aid of physicians\n\nDifficult to think nobly when we think\nfor a livelihood\n\nDine at the hour of supper; sup when I\nshould have been asleep\n\nDisgusted with the idle trifling of a\nconvent\n\nDissembler, though, in fact, I was only\ncourteous\n\nDying for love without an object\n\nEndeavoring to hide my incapacity, I\nrarely fail to show it\n\nEndeavoring to rise too high we are in\ndanger of falling\n\nEver appearing to feel as little for\nothers as herself\n\nFinding in every disease symptoms\nsimilar to mine\n\nFirst instance of violence and\noppression is so deeply engraved\n\nFirst time in my life, of saying, \"I\nmerit my own esteem\"\n\nFlattery, or rather condescension, is\nnot always a vice\n\nForce me to be happy in the manner they\nshould point out\n\nForesight with me has always embittered\nenjoyment\n\nHastening on to death without having\nlived\n\nHat, only fit to be carried under his\narm\n\nHave the pleasure of seeing an ass ride\non horseback\n\nHave ever preferred suffering to owing\n\nHer excessive admiration or dislike of\neverything\n\nHold fast to aught that I have, and yet\ncovet nothing more\n\nHopes, in which self-love was by no\nmeans a loser\n\nHow many wrongs are effaced by the\nembraces of a friend!\n\nI never much regretted sleep\n\nI strove to flatter my idleness\n\nI never heard her speak ill of persons\nwho were absent\n\nI loved her too well to wish to possess\nher\n\nI felt no dread but that of being\ndetected\n\nI was long a child, and am so yet in\nmany particulars\n\nI am charged with the care of myself\nonly\n\nI only wished to avoid giving offence\n\nI did not fear punishment, but I\ndreaded shame\n\nI had a numerous acquaintance, yet no\nmore than two friends\n\nIdea of my not being everything to her\n\nIdleness is as much the pest of society\nas of solitude\n\nIf you have nothing to do, you must\nabsolutely speak continually\n\nIn the course of their lives frequently\nunlike themselves\n\nIn company I suffer cruelly by inaction\n\nIn a nation of blind men, those with\none eye are kings\n\nIndolence, negligence and delay in\nlittle duties to be fulfilled\n\nIndolence of company is burdensome\nbecause it is forced\n\nInjustice of mankind which embitters\nboth life and death\n\nInsignificant trash that has obtained\nthe name of education\n\nInstead of being delighted with the\njourney only wished arrival\n\nIs it possible to dissimulate with\npersons whom we love?\n\nJean Bapiste Rousseau\n\nKnew how to complain, but not how to\nact\n\nLaw that the accuser should be confined\nat the same time\n\nLeft to nature the whole care of my own\ninstruction\n\nLess degree of repugnance in divulging\nwhat is really criminal\n\nLetters illustrious in proportion as it\nwas less a trade\n\nLoaded with words and redundancies\n\nLooking on each day as the last of my\nlife\n\nLove of the marvellous is natural to\nthe human heart\n\nMake men like himself, instead of\ntaking them as they were\n\nMaking their knowledge the measure of\npossibilities\n\nMaking me sensible of every deficiency\n\nManoeuvres of an author to the care of\npublishing a good book\n\nMen, in general, make God like\nthemselves\n\nMen of learning more tenaciously retain\ntheir prejudices\n\nMistake wit for sense\n\nMoment I acquired literary fame, I had\nno longer a friend\n\nMoney that we possess is the instrument\nof liberty\n\nMoney we lack and strive to obtain is\nthe instrument of slavery\n\nMore stunned than flattered by the\ntrumpet of fame\n\nMore folly than candor in the\ndeclaration without necessity\n\nMultiplying persons and adventures\n\nMy greatest faults have been omissions\n\nMyself the principal object\n\nNecessity, the parent of industry,\nsuggested an invention\n\nNeither the victim nor witness of any\nviolent emotions\n\nNo sooner had lost sight of men than I\nceased to despise them\n\nNo longer permitted to let old people\nremain out of Paris\n\nNot so easy to quit her house as to\nenter it\n\nNot knowing how to spend their time,\ndaily breaking in upon me\n\nNothing absurd appears to them\nincredible\n\nObliged to pay attention to every\nfoolish thing uttered\n\nObtain their wishes, without permitting\nor promising anything\n\nOne of those affronts which women\nscarcely ever forgive\n\nOnly prayer consisted in the single\ninterjection \"Oh!\"\n\nPainful to an honest man to resist\ndesires already formed\n\nPassed my days in languishing in\nsilence for those I most admire\n\nPiety was too sincere to give way to\nany affectation of it\n\nPlacing unbounded confidence in myself\nand others\n\nPrescriptions serve to flatter the\nhopes of the patient\n\nPriests ought never to have children--\nexcept by married women\n\nProportioned rather to her ideas than\nabilities\n\nProtestants, in general, are better\ninstructed\n\nRather bashful than modest\n\nRather appeared to study with than to\ninstruct me\n\nRead the hearts of others by\nendeavoring to conceal our own\n\nRead description of any malady without\nthinking it mine\n\nRead without studying\n\nRemorse wakes amid the storms of\nadversity\n\nRemorse sleeps in the calm sunshine of\nprosperity\n\nReproach me with so many contradictions\n\nReturn of spring seemed to me like\nrising from the grave\n\nRogues know how to save themselves at\nthe expense of the feeble\n\nSatisfaction of weeping together\n\nSeeking, by fresh offences, a return of\nthe same chastisement\n\nSin consisted only in the scandal\n\nSlighting her favors, if within your\nreach, a unpardonable crime\n\nSometimes encourage hopes they never\nmean to realize\n\nSubstituting cunning to knowledge\n\nSupposed that certain, which I only\nknew to be probable\n\nTaught me it was not so terrible to\nthieve as I had imagined\n\nThat which neither women nor authors\never pardon\n\nThe malediction of knaves is the glory\nof an honest man\n\nThe conscience of the guilty would\nrevenge the innocent\n\nThere is nothing in this world but time\nand misfortune\n\nThere is no clapping of hands before\nthe king\n\nThis continued desire to control me in\nall my wishes\n\nThough not a fool, I have frequently\npassed for one\n\nTo make him my apologies for the\noffence he had given me\n\nTrue happiness is indescribable, it is\nonly to be felt\n\nTrusting too implicitly to their own\ninnocence\n\nTyranny of persons who called\nthemselves my friends\n\nVirtuous minds, which vice never\nattacks openly\n\nVoltaire was formed never to be (happy)\n\nWe learned to dissemble, to rebel, to\nlie\n\nWhat facility everything which favors\nthe malignity of man\n\nWhen once we make a secret of anything\nto the person we love\n\nWhen everyone is busy, you may continue\nsilent\n\nWhence comes it that even a child can\nintimidate a man\n\nWhere merit consists in belief, and not\nin virtue\n\nWhole universe would be interested in\nmy concerns\n\nWhose discourses began by a\ndistribution of millions\n\nWish thus to be revenged of me for\ntheir humiliation\n\nWithout the least scruple, freely\ndisposing of my time\n\nWriting for bread would soon have\nextinguished my genius\n\nYielded him the victory, or rather\ndeclined the contest\n\nIf you wish to read the entire context of any of these quotations,\nselect a short segment and copy it into your clipboard memory--then open\nthe following eBook and paste the phrase into your computer's find or\nsearch operation.\n\nThe Complete Project Gutenberg Confessions of Rousseau\nhttps://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext03/jj13b10.txt","title":"Quotes and Images From The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":1383}