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It may cost me twenty thousand francs but for twenty thousand francs, I will have the right to rail against the iniquity of humanity, and to devote to it my eternal hatred.
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
Twenties
Hatred
Francs
Cost
Misanthropy
Eternal
Iniquity
Thousand
Rail
Humanity
Devote
May
Twenty
Right
Injustice
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Anyone may be an honorable man, and yet write verse badly.
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How easily a fathers tenderness is recalled, and how quickly a son's offenses vanish at the slightest word of repentance!
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Deference and intimacy live far apart.
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Esteem must be founded on preference: to hold everyone in high esteem is to esteem nothing.
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To create a public scandal is what's wicked to sin in private is not a sin.
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I hate all men, the ones because they are mean and vicious, and the others for being complaisant with the vicious ones.
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It is a strange enterprise to make respectable people laugh.
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The envious will die, but envy never.
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A husband is a plaster that cures all the ills of girlhood.
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I find medicine is the best of all trades because whether you do any good or not you still. Get your money.
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It is a long road from conception to completion.
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I prefer a pleasant vice to an annoying virtue.
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Rest assured that there is nothing which wounds the heart of a noble man more deeply than the thought his honour is assailed.
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Two wives? That exceeds the custom.
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I feed on good soup, not beautiful language.
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The road is a long one from the projection of a thing to its accomplishment.
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A good husband be the best sort of plaster for to cure a young woman's ailments.
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Doubts are more cruel than the worst of truths. It is not only for what we do that we are held responsible, but also for what we do not do. A lover whose passion is extreme loves even the faults of the beloved
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It is madness beyond compare To try to reform the world.
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The absence of the beloved, short though it may last, always lasts too long.
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