Effect Of The Edict Of Nantes
Search Of The Spanish Ambassador
A cardinal may be poisoned, stabbed, got rid of altogether A good friend when a friend at all, which was rare A King's son, a King's father, and never a King A lingering fear lest the sick man should recover A king is made for his subjects, and not the subjects for him Admit our ignorance, and not to give fictions and inventions Aptitude did not come up to my desire Arranged his affairs that he died without money Artagnan, captain of the grey musketeers Believed that to undertake and succeed were only the same things But with a crawling baseness equal to her previous audacity Capacity was small, and yet he believed he knew everything Compelled to pay, who would have preferred giving voluntarily Conjugal impatience of the Duc de Bourgogne Countries of the Inquisition, where science is a crime Danger of inducing hypocrisy by placing devotion too high Death came to laugh at him for the sweating labour he had taken Depopulated a quarter of the realm Desmarets no longer knew of what wood to make a crutch Enriched one at the expense of the other Exceeded all that was promised of her, and all that I had hoped Few would be enriched at the expense of the many For penance: "we must make our servants fast" For want of better support I sustained myself with courage Found it easier to fly into a rage than to reply From bad to worse was easy He had pleased (the King) by his drugs He limped audaciously He was often firm in promises He was so good that I sometimes reproached him for it He was born bored; he was so accustomed to live out of himself He liked nobody to be in any way superior to him He was scarcely taught how to read or write He was accused of putting on an imperceptible touch of rouge Height to which her insignificance had risen His death, so happy for him and so sad for his friends His habits were publicly known to be those of the Greeks His great piety contributed to weaken his mind I abhorred to gain at the expense of others Ignorance and superstition the first of virtues Imagining themselves everywhere in marvellous danger of capture In order to say something cutting to you, says it to himself Indiscreet and tyrannical charity Interests of all interested painted on their faces It is a sign that I have touched the sore point Jesuits: all means were good that furthered his designs Juggle, which put the wealth of Peter into the pockets of Paul King was being wheeled in his easy chair in the gardens Less easily forget the injuries we inflict than those received Madame de Maintenon in returning young and poor from America Make religion a little more palpable Manifesto of a man who disgorges his bile Mightily tired of masters and books Monseigneur, who had been out wolf-hunting More facility I have as King to gratify myself My wife went to bed, and received a crowd of visitors Never been able to bend her to a more human way of life Never was a man so ready with tears, so backward with grief No means, therefore, of being wise among so many fools Not allowing ecclesiastics to meddle with public affairs Of a politeness that was unendurable Oh, my lord! how many virtues you make me detest Omissions must be repaired as soon as they are perceived Others were not allowed to dream as he had lived People who had only sores to share People with difficulty believe what they have seen Persuaded themselves they understood each other Polite when necessary, but insolent when he dared Pope excommunicated those who read the book or kept it Pope not been ashamed to extol the Saint-Bartholomew Promotion was granted according to length of service Received all the Court in her bed Reproaches rarely succeed in love Revocation of the edict of Nantes Rome must be infallible, or she is nothing Said that if they were good, they were sure to be hated Saw peace desired were they less inclined to listen to terms Scarcely any history has been written at first hand Seeing him eat olives with a fork! She lose her head, and her accomplice to be broken on the wheel Spark of ambition would have destroyed all his edifice Spoil all by asking too much Spoke only about as much as three or four women Sulpicians Supported by unanswerable reasons that did not convince Suspicion of a goitre, which did not ill become her Teacher lost little, because he had little to lose The clergy, to whom envy is not unfamiliar The porter and the soldier were arrested and tortured The shortness of each day was his only sorrow The most horrible sights have often ridiculous contrasts The argument of interest is the best of all with monks The nothingness of what the world calls great destinies The safest place on the Continent There was no end to the outrageous civilities of M. de Coislin Touched, but like a man who does not wish to seem so Unreasonable love of admiration, was his ruin We die as we have lived, and 'tis rare it happens otherwise Whatever course I adopt many people will condemn me Whitehall, the largest and ugliest palace in Europe Who counted others only as they stood in relation to himself Wise and disdainful silence is difficult to keep under reverses With him one's life was safe World; so unreasoning, and so little in accord with itself
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--And many thanks for your persistence in reading all the way to the end of this page. D.W.