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He who laughs on Friday will weep on Sunday.

Jean Racine

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Jean Racine
Age: 59 †
Born: 1639
Born: December 1
Died: 1699
Died: April 21
Author
Dramatist
Historian
Librettist
Playwright
Poet
Translator
Writer
Ferté-Milon (La)
Jean Baptiste Racine
Jean-Baptiste Racine
Laughter
Laughing
Laughs
Weep
Friday
Sunday

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Justice in the extreme is often unjust.
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Love is not a fire to be shut up in a soul. Everything betrays us: voice, silence, eyes half-covered fires burn all the brighter.
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My death, taking the light from my eyes, gives back to the day the purity which they soiled.
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A tragedy need not have blood and death it's enough that it all be filled with that majestic sadness that is the pleasure of tragedy.
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Love is not dumb. The heart speaks many ways.
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The part I remember best is the beginning.
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He who bridles the fury of the billows knows also to put a stop to the secret plans of the wicked. Submitting with respect to His holy will, I fear God, and have no other fear.
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He who ruleth the raging of the sea, knows also how to check the designs of the ungodly. I submit myself with reverence to His Holy Will. O Abner, I fear my God, and I fear none but Him.
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Flight is lawful, when one flies from tyrants.
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I am a man, and nothing that concerns a man do I deem a matter of indifference to me.
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Felicity is in possession, happiness in anticipation.
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The principal rule of art is to please and to move. All the other rules were created to achieve this first one.
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And forever goodbye! Forever! Oh, Sir, can you imagine how dreadful this cruel word sounds when one loves?
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Crime, like virtue, has its degrees.
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To save our imperiled honor everything must be sacrificed, even virtue.
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A benefit cited by way of reproach is equivalent to an injury.
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I felt for my crime a just terror I looked on my life with hate, and my passion with horror.
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Me, rule? Me, place the State under my law, when my feeble reason no longer rules even myself!
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The quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love.
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Hell, covering all with its gloomy vapors, has cast shadows on even the holiest eyes.
Jean Racine