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Then worms shall try That long preserved virginity, And your quaint honor turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave’s a fine and private place But none, I think, do there embrace.

Moliere

Hypocrisy is a fashionable vice, and all fashionable vices pass for virtue.
MOLIERE

Fashion Hypocrisy Pass Vice Virtue
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.
MOLIERE

Cruelty Doubt Mistake Passion Truth Worst
We are all mortals, and each is for himself.
MOLIERE

Himself Mortal
Outside of Paris, there is no hope for the cultured.
MOLIERE

Culture Hope
A good husband be the best sort of plaster for to cure a young woman’s ailments.
MOLIERE

Goodness Husband Problem Woman Young
He makes his cook his merit, and the world visits his dinners and not him.
MOLIERE

Cook Food Himself World
All is wholesome in the absence of excess.
MOLIERE

Absence Minimalism
I want to be distinguished from the rest; to tell the truth, a friend to all mankind is not a friend for me.
MOLIERE

Friendship Man Myself Truth
No one is safe from slander. The best way is to pay no attention to it, but live in innocence and let the world talk.
MOLIERE

Attention Best Innocence Live Pay Safety Talk Way World
If everyone were clothed with integrity, if every heart were just, frank, kindly, the other virtues would be well-nigh useless.
MOLIERE

Heart Integrity Virtue
I believe that two and two are four and that four and four are eight.
MOLIERE

Believe Mathematics
It’s an odd job, making decent people laugh.
MOLIERE

Job Laughter People
Music and dance are all you need.
MOLIERE

Dance Music Need
One easily bears moral reproof, but never mockery.
MOLIERE

Easy Humour Moral
Ah, there are no children nowadays.
MOLIERE

Children Time
Good Heavens! For more than forty years I have been speaking prose without knowing it.
MOLIERE

Goodness Heaven Known Myself Talk

Then worms shall try That long preserved virginity, And your quaint honor turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave’s a fine and private place But none, I think, do there embrace.

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Then worms shall try That long preserved virginity, And your quaint honor turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave’s a fine and private place But none, I think, do there embrace.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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