The generality of virtuous women are like hidden treasures, they are safe only because nobody has sought after them.
Francois De La RochefoucauldRead
There is a kind of elevation which does not depend on fortune; it is a certain air which distinguishes us, and seems to destine us for great things; it is a price which we imperceptibly set upon ourselves.
Interpretation
True elevation comes from within rather than external circumstances; it is our self-worth that defines our greatness.
This quote by Francois De La Rochefoucauld emphasizes that one's sense of elevation or greatness is not merely a consequence of luck or fortune but rather a reflection of self-worth and personal dignity. The 'certain air' he refers to embodies an inner quality that can set individuals apart and highlight their potential for achieving remarkable things, regardless of their external situations.
In practice
In a motivational speech to inspire young leaders about the importance of self-esteem.
The generality of virtuous women are like hidden treasures, they are safe only because nobody has sought after them.
Old men delight in giving good advice as a consolation for the fact that they can no longer set bad examples.
Some counterfeits reproduce so very well the truth that it would be a flaw of judgment not to be deceived by them.
Conceit causes more conversation than wit.
The defects and faults of the mind are like wounds in the body; after all imaginable care has been taken to heal them up, still there will be a scar left behind, and they are in continual danger of breaking the skin and bursting out again.
To understand matters rightly we should understand their details; and as that knowledge is almost infinite, our knowledge is always superficial and imperfect.
The instant formal government is abolished, society begins to act. A general association takes place, and common interest produces common security.
I know ours is a world made by men for men, their dictatorship is so ancient it even extends to language.
Faith is an oasis in the heart which will never be reached by the caravan of thinking.
It is an absurdity to believe that the Deity has human passions, and one of the lowest of human passions, a restless appetite for applause
I have resolved on an enterprise that has no precedent and will have no imitator. I want to set before my fellow human beings a man in every way true to nature; and that man will be myself.
Yes; poor Bunbury is a dreadful invalid. Well, I must say, Algernon, that I think it is high time that Mr. Bunbury made up his mind whether he was going to live or to die. This shillyshallying with the question is absurd.
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