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Widger's Quotations from The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau
by David Widger
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The quotations are in two formats: 1. Small passages from the text. 2. Lists of alphabetized one-liners.

D.W.



CONTENTS: (in reversed order)

Apr 2003 Entire Confessions of J.J.Rousseau, Book 13[JJ#13][jj13b10.txt]3913 Apr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 12 [JJ#12][jj12b10.txt]3912 Apr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 11 [JJ#11][jj11b10.txt]3911 Apr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 10 [JJ#10][jj10b10.txt]3910 Apr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 9 [JJ#09][jj09b10.txt]3909 Apr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 8 [JJ#08][jj08b10.txt]3908 Apr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 7 [JJ#07][jj07b10.txt]3907 Apr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 6 [JJ#06][jj06b10.txt]3906 Apr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 5 [JJ#05][jj05b10.txt]3905 Apr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 4 [JJ#04][jj04b10.txt]3904 Apr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 3 [JJ#03][jj03b10.txt]3903 Apr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 2 [JJ#02][jj02b10.txt]3902 Apr 2003 The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book 1 [JJ#01][jj01b10.txt]3901



THE CONFESSIONS OF JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU

THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 1 [JJ#01][jj01b10.txt]3901

A feeling heart the foundation of all my misfortunes Being beat like a slave, I judged I had a right to all vices Degree of sensuality had mingled with the smart and shame First instance of violence and oppression is so deeply engraved Hold fast to aught that I have, and yet covet nothing more Insignificant trash that has obtained the name of education Law that the accuser should be confined at the same time Less degree of repugnance in divulging what is really criminal Money that we possess is the instrument of liberty Money we lack and strive to obtain is the instrument of slavery Necessity, the parent of industry, suggested an invention Neither the victim nor witness of any violent emotions Passed my days in languishing in silence for those I most admire Rogues know how to save themselves at the expense of the feeble Seeking, by fresh offences, a return of the same chastisement Supposed that certain, which I only knew to be probable Taught me it was not so terrible to thieve as I had imagined We learned to dissemble, to rebel, to lie



THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 2 [JJ#02][jj02b10.txt]3902

A man, on being questioned, is immediately on his guard A religion preached by such missionaries must lead to paradise! Aversion to singularity Avoid putting our interests in competition with our duty Catholic must content himself with the decisions of others Disgusted with the idle trifling of a convent Dissembler, though, in fact, I was only courteous Ever appearing to feel as little for others as herself Flattery, or rather condescension, is not always a vice Hopes, in which self-love was by no means a loser I did not fear punishment, but I dreaded shame I felt no dread but that of being detected I only wished to avoid giving offence Instead of being delighted with the journey only wished arrival Left to nature the whole care of my own instruction Making me sensible of every deficiency Myself the principal object Obtain their wishes, without permitting or promising anything Piety was too sincere to give way to any affectation of it Placing unbounded confidence in myself and others Proportioned rather to her ideas than abilities Protestants, in general, are better instructed Read the hearts of others by endeavoring to conceal our own Remorse sleeps in the calm sunshine of prosperity Remorse wakes amid the storms of adversity Sometimes encourage hopes they never mean to realize The conscience of the guilty would revenge the innocent Where merit consists in belief, and not in virtue Whole universe would be interested in my concerns Yielded him the victory, or rather declined the contest



THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 3 [JJ#03][jj03b10.txt]3903

A subject not even fit to make a priest of Endeavoring to hide my incapacity, I rarely fail to show it Endeavoring to rise too high we are in danger of falling Foresight with me has always embittered enjoyment Hat only fit to be carried under his arm Love of the marvellous is natural to the human heart Mistake wit for sense Priests ought never to have children—except by married women Rather appeared to study with than to instruct me Though not a fool, I have frequently passed for one



THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 4 [JJ#04][jj04b10.txt]3904

Have ever preferred suffering to owing I was long a child, and am so yet in many particulars



THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 5 [JJ#05][jj05b10.txt]3905

Adopted the jargon of books, than the knowledge they contained Dying for love without an object Have the pleasure of seeing an ass ride on horseback Idleness is as much the pest of society as of solitude If you have nothing to do, you must absolutely speak continually In a nation of blind men, those with one eye are kings Injustice of mankind which embitters both life and death Not so easy to quit her house as to enter it Sin consisted only in the scandal Trusting too implicitly to their own innocence Voltaire was formed never to be (happy) When everyone is busy, you may continue silent Whose discourses began by a distribution of millions



THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 6 [JJ#06][jj06b10.txt]3906

All animals are distrustful of man, and with reason Ardor for learning became so far a madness Conversations were more serviceable than his prescriptions Finding in every disease symptoms similar to mine First time in my life, of saying, "I merit my own esteem" Looking on each day as the last of my life Making their knowledge the measure of possibilities Men, in general, make God like themselves One of those affronts which women scarcely ever forgive Prescriptions serve to flatter the hopes of the patient Read description of any malady without thinking it mine Read without studying Return of spring seemed to me like rising from the grave Slighting her favors, if within your reach, a unpardonable crime True happiness is indescribable, it is only to be felt



THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 7 [JJ#07][jj07b10.txt]3907

I am charged with the care of myself only I strove to flatter my idleness Men of learning more tenaciously retain their predjudices



THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 8 [JJ#08][jj08b10.txt]3908

All your evils proceed from yourselves Considering this want of decency as an act of courage Die without the aid of physicians I had a numerous acquaintance, yet no more than two friends Knew how to complain, but not how to act Moment I acquired literary fame, I had no longer a friend There is no clapping of hands before the king



THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 9 [JJ#09][jj09b10.txt]3909

An author must be independent of success Cemented by reciprocal esteem Difficult to think nobly when we think for a livelihood Dine at the hour of supper; sup when I should have been asleep Force me to be happy in the manner they should point out Hastening on to death without having lived How many wrongs are effaced by the embraces of a friend I loved her too well to wish to possess her I never heard her speak ill of persons who were absent Idea of my not being everything to her In the course of their lives frequently unlike themselves Is it possible to dissimulate with persons whom we love? Letters illustrious in proportion as it was less a trade Loaded with words and redundancies Make men like himself, instead of taking them as they were Manoeuvres of an author to the care of publishing a good book No longer permitted to let old people remain out of Paris No sooner had lost sight of men than I ceased to despise them Not knowing how to spend their time, daily breaking in upon me Painful to an honest man to resist desires already formed Rather bashful than modest This continued desire to control me in all my wishes To make him my apologies for the offence he had given me Tyranny of persons who called themselves my friends Virtuous minds, which vice never attacks openly When once we make a secret of anything to the person we love Without the least scruple, freely disposing of my time Writing for bread would soon have extinguished my genius



THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 10 [JJ#10][jj10b10.txt]3910

Indolence, negligence and delay in little duties to be fulfilled Jean Bapiste Rousseau My greatest faults have been omissions Satisfaction of weeping together The malediction of knaves is the glory of an honest man There is nothing in this world but time and misfortune What facility everything which favors the malignity of man Whence comes it that even a child can intimidate a man



THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 11 [JJ#11][jj11b10.txt]3911

Caution is needless after the evil has happened Her excessive admiration or dislike of everything More folly than candor in the declaration without necessity Multiplying persons and adventures That which neither women nor authors ever pardon



THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 12 [JJ#12][jj12b10.txt]3912

Bilboquet I never much regretted sleep In company I suffer cruelly by inaction Indolence of company is burdensome because it is forced More stunned than flattered by the trumpet of fame Nothing absurd appears to them incredible Obliged to pay attention to every foolish thing uttered Only prayer consisted in the single interjection "Oh!" Reproach me with so many contradictions Substituting cunning to knowledge Wish thus to be revenged of me for their humiliation



ENTIRE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 13 [JJ#13][jj13b10.txt]3913

A feeling heart the foundation of all my misfortunes A religion peached by such missionaries must lead to paradise! A subject not even fit to make a priest of A man, on being questioned, is immediately on his guard Adopted the jargon of books, than the knowledge they contained All animals are distrustful of man, and with reason All your evils proceed from yourselves! An author must be independent of success Ardor for learning became so far a madness Aversion to singularity Avoid putting our interests in competition with our duty Being beat like a slave, I judged I had a right to all vices Bilboquet Catholic must content himself with the decisions of others Caution is needless after the evil has happened Cemented by reciprocal esteem Considering this want of decency as an act of courage Conversations were more serviceable than his prescriptions Degree of sensuality had mingled with the smart and shame Die without the aid of physicians Difficult to think nobly when we think for a livelihood Dine at the hour of supper; sup when I should have been asleep Disgusted with the idle trifling of a convent Dissembler, though, in fact, I was only courteous Dying for love without an object Endeavoring to hide my incapacity, I rarely fail to show it Endeavoring to rise too high we are in danger of falling Ever appearing to feel as little for others as herself Finding in every disease symptoms similar to mine First instance of violence and oppression is so deeply engraved First time in my life, of saying, "I merit my own esteem" Flattery, or rather condescension, is not always a vice Force me to be happy in the manner they should point out Foresight with me has always embittered enjoyment Hastening on to death without having lived Hat, only fit to be carried under his arm Have the pleasure of seeing an ass ride on horseback Have ever preferred suffering to owing Her excessive admiration or dislike of everything Hold fast to aught that I have, and yet covet nothing more Hopes, in which self-love was by no means a loser How many wrongs are effaced by the embraces of a friend! I never much regretted sleep I strove to flatter my idleness I never heard her speak ill of persons who were absent I loved her too well to wish to possess her I felt no dread but that of being detected I was long a child, and am so yet in many particulars I am charged with the care of myself only I only wished to avoid giving offence I did not fear punishment, but I dreaded shame I had a numerous acquaintance, yet no more than two friends Idea of my not being everything to her Idleness is as much the pest of society as of solitude If you have nothing to do, you must absolutely speak continually In the course of their lives frequently unlike themselves In company I suffer cruelly by inaction In a nation of blind men, those with one eye are kings Indolence, negligence and delay in little duties to be fulfilled Indolence of company is burdensome because it is forced Injustice of mankind which embitters both life and death Insignificant trash that has obtained the name of education Instead of being delighted with the journey only wished arrival Is it possible to dissimulate with persons whom we love? Jean Bapiste Rousseau Knew how to complain, but not how to act Law that the accuser should be confined at the same time Left to nature the whole care of my own instruction Less degree of repugnance in divulging what is really criminal Letters illustrious in proportion as it was less a trade Loaded with words and redundancies Looking on each day as the last of my life Love of the marvellous is natural to the human heart Make men like himself, instead of taking them as they were Making their knowledge the measure of possibilities Making me sensible of every deficiency Manoeuvres of an author to the care of publishing a good book Men, in general, make God like themselves Men of learning more tenaciously retain their predjudices Mistake wit for sense Moment I acquired literary fame, I had no longer a friend Money that we possess is the instrument of liberty Money we lack and strive to obtain is the instrument of slavery More stunned than flattered by the trumpet of fame More folly than candor in the declaration without necessity Multiplying persons and adventures My greatest faults have been omissions Myself the principal object Necessity, the parent of industry, suggested an invention Neither the victim nor witness of any violent emotions No sooner had lost sight of men than I ceased to despise them No longer permitted to let old people remain out of Paris Not so easy to quit her house as to enter it Not knowing how to spend their time, daily breaking in upon me Nothing absurd appears to them incredible Obliged to pay attention to every foolish thing uttered Obtain their wishes, without permitting or promising anything One of those affronts which women scarcely ever forgive Only prayer consisted in the single interjection "Oh!" Painful to an honest man to resist desires already formed Passed my days in languishing in silence for those I most admire Piety was too sincere to give way to any affectation of it Placing unbounded confidence in myself and others Prescriptions serve to flatter the hopes of the patient Priests ought never to have children—except by married women Proportioned rather to her ideas than abilities Protestants, in general, are better instructed Rather bashful than modest Rather appeared to study with than to instruct me Read the hearts of others by endeavoring to conceal our own Read description of any malady without thinking it mine Read without studying Remorse wakes amid the storms of adversity Remorse sleeps in the calm sunshine of prosperity Reproach me with so many contradictions Return of spring seemed to me like rising from the grave Rogues know how to save themselves at the expense of the feeble Satisfaction of weeping together Seeking, by fresh offences, a return of the same chastisement Sin consisted only in the scandal Slighting her favors, if within your reach, a unpardonable crime Sometimes encourage hopes they never mean to realize Substituting cunning to knowledge Supposed that certain, which I only knew to be probable Taught me it was not so terrible to thieve as I had imagined That which neither women nor authors ever pardon The malediction of knaves is the glory of an honest man The conscience of the guilty would revenge the innocent There is nothing in this world but time and misfortune There is no clapping of hands before the king This continued desire to control me in all my wishes Though not a fool, I have frequently passed for one To make him my apologies for the offence he had given me True happiness is indescribable, it is only to be felt Trusting too implicitly to their own innocence Tyranny of persons who called themselves my friends Virtuous minds, which vice never attacks openly Voltaire was formed never to be(happy) We learned to dissemble, to rebel, to lie What facility everything which favors the malignity of man When once we make a secret of anything to the person we love When everyone is busy, you may continue silent Whence comes it that even a child can intimidate a man Where merit consists in belief, and not in virtue Whole universe would be interested in my concerns Whose discourses began by a distribution of millions Wish thus to be revenged of me for their humiliation Without the least scruple, freely disposing of my time Writing for bread would soon have extinguished my genius Yielded him the victory, or rather declined the contest

THE END

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