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The root of sanctity is sanity. A man must be healthy before he can be holy. We bathe first, and then perfume.
Sophie Swetchine
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Sophie Swetchine
Age: 74 †
Born: 1782
Born: November 22
Died: 1857
Died: September 10
Diarist
Lady-In-Waiting
Salonnière
Writer
Moscow
Russian SFSR
Sofia Petrovna Soymonova
Madame Swetchine
Swetchine
Anne Sophie Swetchine
Healthy
Bathe
Holy
Sanctity
Health
Perfume
Firsts
Sanity
First
Holiness
Must
Root
Men
Priorities
Roots
More quotes by Sophie Swetchine
I love victory, but I love not triumph.
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A malicious enemy is better than a clumsy friend.
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It would seem that by our sorrows only are we called to a knowledge of the Infinite. Are we happy? The limits of life constrain us on all sides.
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Indifferent souls never part. Impassioned souls part, and return to one another, because they can do no better.
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We reform others unconsciously when we walk uprightly.
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To reveal imprudently the spot where we are most sensitive and vulnerable is to invite a blow. The demigod Achilles admitted no one to his confidence.
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We deceive ourselves when we fancy that only weakness needs support. Strength needs it far more.
Sophie Swetchine
What is resignation? It is putting God between one's self and one's grief.
Sophie Swetchine
In retirement, the passage of time seems accelerated. Nothing warns us of its flight. It is a wave which never murmurs, because there is no obstacle to its flow.
Sophie Swetchine
Those who have suffered much are like those who know many languages they have learned to understand and be understood by all.
Sophie Swetchine
The very might of the human intellect reveals its limits.
Sophie Swetchine
If grief is to be mitigated, it must either wear itself out or be shared.
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The symptoms of compassion and benevolence, in some people, are like those minute guns which warn you that you are in deadly peril.
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Death is the justification of all the ways of the Christian, the last end of all his sacrifices, the touch of the Great Master which completes the picture.
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To have ideas is to gather flowers to think is to weave them into garlands.
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Old age is the night of life, as night is the old age of the day. Still, night is full of magnificence and, for many, it is more brilliant than the day.
Sophie Swetchine
The most culpable of the excesses of Liberty is the harm she does herself.
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He who has ceased to enjoy his friend's superiority has ceased to love him.
Sophie Swetchine
We are all of us, in this world, more or less like St. January, whom the inhabitants of Naples worship one day, and pelt with baked apples the next.
Sophie Swetchine
Attention is a silent and perpetual flattery.
Sophie Swetchine