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He uses all his strength to appear strong, all his firmness to appear firm, all his wit to appear infallible.
June 4.
When one loves, it is the heart that judges.
Sleepwalkers — who drink, who eat, who marry, who buy and sell, build, make contracts, tend their fortunes, have friends, enemies, pleasures, sorrows, business, are born, grow, live and die, but asleep.
Rhyme. A sound that has pleased gives a love of a similar sound.
Metaphysics. At least the mind finds space there. Elsewhere it finds only fullness.
June 5.
That the mind needs an imaginary world in which it can move and wander. And that it delights there not so much in the objects as in the space it finds there. — For the soul and for the body, space is a great good, a great beauty.
— and as children love sand and water and everything that [is] fluid and flexible because they can dispose of it as they please...
Seneca and Florus made more beautiful in J.-J. Rousseau and in Montesquieu; Lucan in Corneille; Tertullian in Bossuët.
June 6.
Journalists — like hired carriages. One sees excellent coachmen among them, and beautiful carriages. But one uses them by the hour. One forgets them; one scarcely has time to notice that they are very good. — These papers lined with velvet...
To work at giving oneself reason. Acquired reason is becoming. But a sensibility foreign to the heart of the one who displays it is unbecoming. It is both a ridiculous trait and a quirk. One can therefore and ought to be reasonable with another’s reason when one is not with one’s own. One can also be beneficent through maxims. All this is praiseworthy. The nature of reason and virtue is to be acquired. But the nature of goodness is to be natural. Borrowed sensibility is an odious hypocrisy. It is passing off a mask as a face. Teach children, then, to be virtuous, but not to be sensitive. One must hide sensibility.
June 7.
Mme de Pastoret was right. Intractable minds expose themselves to being flattered. One naturally seeks to disarm those one cannot defeat or does not wish to fight. — Who could care about an esteem so easily lost?
In the abbé Auger’s translations the style, through its very imperfections, seems more spoken than written. And that is a great merit when one translates an orator. By contrast, when one translates a poet, the style must seem modulated.
Because La Harpe speaks the language of criticism copiously and easily, he seems skillful; but he has little skill.