Happy people are ignoramuses and glory is nothing else but success, and to achieve it one only has to be cunning.
When we retire from the conventions of society and draw close to nature, we involuntarily become children: each attribute acquired by experience falls away from the soul, which becomes anew such as it was once and will surely be again.
Evil spawns evil. The first experience of torture gives an understanding of the pleasure in tormenting others.
You men do not understand the delights of a glance, of a pressure of the hand... but as for me, I swear to you that, when I listen to your voice, I feel such a deep, strange bliss that the most passionate kisses could not take its place.
And I, as I lived, in an alien landWill die a slave and an orphan.
My whole life has been merely a succession of miserable and unsuccessful denials of feelings or reason.
In simple hearts the feeling for the beauty and grandeur of nature is a hundred-fold stronger and more vivid than in us, ecstatic composers of narratives in words and on paper.
Of two friends, one is always the slave of the other, although frequently neither acknowledges the fact to himself.
There are two men in me--one lives in the full sense of the word, the other reasons and passes judgment on the first. The first will perhaps take leave of you and the world forever in an hour now; and the second . . . the second?
A strange thing, the human heart in general, and woman's heart in particular.
I am like a mariner born and bred on board a buccaneer brig whose soul has become so inured to storm and strife that if cast ashore he would weary and languish no matter how alluring the shady groves and how bright the gentle sun.
Women only love those that they don’t know.
Russian ladies, for the most part, cherish only Platonic love, without mingling any thought of matrimony with it; and Platonic love is exceedingly embarrassing.
Out of life's storm I carried only a few ideas - and not one feeling.
The history of a man's soul, even the pettiest soul, is hardly less interesting and useful than the history of a whole people; especially when the former is the result of the observations of a mature mind upon itself, and has been written without any egotistical desire of arousing sympathy or astonishment. Rousseau's Confessions has precisely this defect – he read it to his friends.
We practically always excuse things when we understand them
One should never spurn a penitent criminal: in his despair he may become twice as much a criminal as before.
O vanity! you are the lever by means of which Archimedes wished to lift the earth!
I was lying, but I wanted to rouse him. I have an inborn urge to contradict; my whole life has been a mere chain of sad and futile opposition to the dictates of either heart or reason. The presence of an enthusiast makes me as cold as a midwinter's day, and, I believe, frequent association with a listless phlegmatic would make me an impassioned dreamer.
For what did the creator prepare me,Why did he so terribly contradictThe hopes of my youth?
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