By Andre Theuriet

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Accustomed to hide what I think

Amusements they offered were either
wearisome or repugnant

Consoled himself with one of the pious

Dreaded the monotonous regularity of
conjugal life

Fawning duplicity

Had not been spoiled by Fortune's gifts

How small a space man occupies on the

Hypocritical grievances

I am not in the habit of consulting the

I measure others by myself

It does not mend matters to give way
like that

Like all timid persons, he took refuge
in a moody silence

More disposed to discover evil than

Nature's cold indifference to our

Never is perfect happiness our lot

Opposing his orders with steady,
irritating inertia

Others found delight in the most
ordinary amusements

Plead the lie to get at the truth

Sensitiveness and disposition to self-

The ease with which he is forgotten

There are some men who never have had
any childhood

Those who have outlived their illusions

Timidity of a night-bird that is made
to fly in the day

To make a will  is to put one foot into
the grave

Toast and white wine (for breakfast)

Vague hope came over him that all would
come right

Vexed, act in direct contradiction to
their own wishes

Women: they are more bitter than death

Yield to their customs, and not pooh-
pooh their amusements

You have considerable patience for a

You must be pleased with yourself--that
is more essential

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These quotations were collected from the works of the author by David Widger while he was preparing etexts for Project Gutenberg. Comments and suggestions will be most welcome.

--And many thanks for your persistence in reading all the way to the end of this page.        D.W.

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