I always do the first line well, but I have trouble doing the others.
MoliereRead
Hypocrisy is a fashionable vice, and all fashionable vices pass for virtue.
Interpretation
Hypocrisy is commonly accepted in society, often mistaken for virtue.
This quote by Moliere suggests that hypocrisy, which is the act of claiming to have moral standards that one does not actually possess, is often embraced in society as if it were a positive trait. It highlights the irony of how society often accepts and even glorifies behavior that contradicts true virtue, suggesting that what is deemed 'fashionable' can mask the reality of moral character.
In practice
In a discussion about ethical standards in business, one might quote Moliere's observation on hypocrisy.
I always do the first line well, but I have trouble doing the others.
Beauty without intelligence is like a hook without bait.
Betrayed and wronged in everything, I’ll flee this bitter world where vice is king, And seek some spot unpeopled and apart Where I’ll be free to have an honest heart. - Molière, The Misanthrope
Long is the road from conception to completion.
Oh, I may be devout, but I am human all the same.
How easy love makes fools of us.
Everyone, when there's war in the air, learns to live in a new element: falsehood.
The fact is, when men carry the same ideals in their hearts, nothing can isolate them - neither prison walls nor the sod of cemeteries. For a single memory, a single spirit, a single idea, a single conscience, a single dignity will sustain them all.
Books and drafts mean something quite different for different thinkers. One collects in a book the lights he was able to steal and carry home swiftly out of the rays of some insight that suddenly dawned on him, while another thinker offers us nothing but shadows - images in black and grey of what had built up in his soul the day before.
Flaubert was right when he said that our use of language is like a cracked kettle on which we bang out tunes for bears to dance to, while all the time we need to move the very stars to pity.
None can love freedom heartily, but good men; the rest love not freedom, but licence.
A human being would certainly not grow to be seventy or eighty years old if this longevity had no meaning for the species. The afternoon of human life must also have a significance of its own and cannot be merely a pitiful appendage to life's morning.
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