Vulgar words in Widger's Quotations from Project Gutenberg Edition of Confessions of J. J. Rousseau (Page 1)
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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?
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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!