Tap the page, move to the top or bottom edge, swipe down, or press Tab to reveal reading controls. Use the arrow keys or swipe sideways to turn pages.
“In general (as Mr de Bonnal very rightly said), everything is what it ought to be, but needs to be kept so.” Let us say: everything occupies its place, but not everything is within its bounds.
V—t—R is an angel of darkness.
Yes, in general I can very well picture Bossuet, Fénelon, even Plato, and even Muhammad bringing their works before God. Even Pascal, and even Labruyère, and even Vauvenargues, and even Lafontaine, for their works paint their souls. (And all those whose works have something of pure spirit.) But not J.-J. Rousseau, who put into his only his humor and his efforts; as for Voltaire, his also paint him, and they will be counted to him, it seems to me, but against him. Racine is not in his. And so he grew disgusted with them. His talent is there, but not he.
To employ in thinking of God the matter that makes the passions. All other subjects of reflection excite it and set it in motion, but this one annihilates it by giving it another course.
When one has passed from philosophy to religion, one must repel philosophy; it would tend to lead us back. Only those who are beyond (sic) need to pass through it.
July 27.
Ancients. They had no more genius, but their art was better than ours. And there was better taste in their countries than in ours. They had inherited habits that were better.
July 28.
Of the duration of punishments. Philosophy does not know their duration, but religion fixes it. And it calls it eternal. Now you know what we have said of the limits of the former and the necessity of the latter. We shall not contradict it, all the more so because, to combat it, philosophy would have to advance beyond those limits and go farther than we have said it ought to go.
The time I once lost in pleasures, I lose today in sufferings.
Sunday, July 29.
To ponder. People who are going to die. Thieves. Faith kept. Girls. Admiration. Vanity. Fidelity. A singular reply to Desprez: — Shall I see many stars there? — They are the grains of sand of the country you are going to.
What do you say of those who are always drunk, and of their happiness? Well!...
When one writes with ease, one always believes one has more talent than one has.
July 30.
Fievée. He has punch.