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And with his arms crossed he looks pityingly down from his spiritual height on everything that anyone says.
Moliere
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Moliere
Age: 50 †
Born: 1622
Born: October 15
Died: 1673
Died: February 16
Dramaturge
Playwright
Poet
Satirist
Stage Actor
Theatrical Director
Paris
France
Jean-Baptiste Poquelin
Moliere
Jean-Baptiste Molière
Jean Baptiste Poquelin Molière
Spiritual
Everything
Looks
Crossed
Height
Arms
Says
Anyone
More quotes by Moliere
I prefer a pleasant vice to an annoying virtue.
Moliere
I hate all men, the ones because they are mean and vicious, and the others for being complaisant with the vicious ones.
Moliere
Gold makes the ugly beautiful.
Moliere
One easily bears moral reproof, but never mockery.
Moliere
Frankly, it's good enough to lock up in a drawer.
Moliere
You only die once, but you will be dead for a very long time.
Moliere
They [zealots] would have everybody be as blind as themselves: to them, to be clear-sighted is libertinism.
Moliere
All right-minded people adore it and anyone who is able to live without it is unworthy to draw breathe
Moliere
It is the public scandal that offends to sin in secret is no sin at all.
Moliere
Betrayed and wronged in everything, I’ll flee this bitter world where vice is king, And seek some spot unpeopled and apart Where I’ll be free to have an honest heart. - Molière, The Misanthrope
Moliere
If Claret is the king of natural wines, Burgundy is the queen.
Moliere
According to the saying of an ancient philosopher, one should eat to live, and not live to eat
Moliere
The public scandal is what constitutes the offence: sins sinned in secret are no sins at all.
Moliere
It is a long road from conception to completion.
Moliere
The ancients, sir, are the ancients, and we are the people of today.
Moliere
Consistency is only suitable for ridicule.
Moliere
It's an odd job, making decent people laugh.
Moliere
And knowing money is a root of evil, in Christian charity, he'd take away whatever things may hinder your salvation.
Moliere
The absence of the beloved, short though it may last, always lasts too long.
Moliere
Then worms shall try That long preserved virginity, And your quaint honor turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave's a fine and private place But none, I think, do there embrace.
Moliere
