and misfortune
What facility everything which favors the malignity of man
Whence comes it that even a child can intimidate a man

THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 11
[JJ#11][jj11b10.txt]3911

Caution is needless after the evil has happened
Her excessive admiration or dislike of everything
More folly than candor in the declaration without necessity
Multiplying persons and adventures
That which neither women nor authors ever pardon

THE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 12
[JJ#12][jj12b10.txt]3912

Bilboquet
I never much regretted sleep
In company I suffer cruelly by inaction
Indolence of company is burdensome because it is forced
More stunned than flattered by the trumpet of fame
Nothing absurd appears to them incredible
Obliged to pay attention to every foolish thing uttered
Only prayer consisted in the single interjection "Oh!"
Reproach me with so many contradictions
Substituting cunning to knowledge
Wish thus to be revenged of me for their humiliation

ENTIRE CONFESSIONS OF J. J. ROUSSEAU, BOOK 13
[JJ#13][jj13b10.txt]3913

A feeling heart the foundation of all my misfortunes
A religion peached by such missionaries must lead to paradise!
A subject not even fit to make a priest of
A man, on being questioned, is immediately on his guard
Adopted the jargon of books, than the knowledge they contained
All animals are distrustful of man, and with reason
All your evils proceed from yourselves!
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!
I never much regretted sleep
I strove to flatter my idleness
I never heard her speak ill of persons who were absent
I loved her too well to wish to possess her
I felt no dread but that of being detected
I was long a child, and am so yet in many particulars
I am charged with the care of myself only
I only wished