Francois de La Rochefoucauld
Francois de La Rochefoucauld
François VI, Duc de La Rochefoucauld, Prince de Marcillacla ʁɔʃfuˈko]; 15 September 1613 – 17 March 1680) was a noted French author of maxims and memoirs. It is said that his world-view was clear-eyed and urbane, and that he neither condemned human conduct nor sentimentally celebrated it. Born in Paris on the Rue des Petits Champs, at a time when the royal court was vacillating between aiding the nobility and threatening it, he was considered an exemplar of the accomplished 17th-century...
NationalityFrench
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth15 September 1613
CountryFrance
Some crimes get honor and renown by being committed with more pomp, by a greater number, and in a higher degree of wickedness thanothers. Hence it is that public robberies, plunderings, and sackings have been looked upon as excellencies and noble achievements, and the seizing of whole countries, however unjustly and barbarously, is dignified with the glorious name of gaining conquests.
There is something to be said for jealousy, because it only designs the preservation of some good which we either have or think wehave a right to. But envy is a raging madness that cannot bear the wealth or fortune of others.
The moderation of men in the most exalted fortunes is a desire to be thought above those things that have raised them so high.
Moderation is a fear of falling into that envy and contempt which those who grow giddy with their good fortune quite justly draw upon themselves. It is a vain boasting of the greatness of our mind.
No one thinks fortune so blind as those she has been least kind to.
A readiness to believe ill of others, before we have duly examined it, is the effect of laziness and pride. We are eager to find aculprit, and loath to give ourselves the trouble of examining the crime.
Affected simplicity is a subtle imposture.
Some men are like ballads, that are in everyone's mouth a little while.
The exceeding delight we take in talking about ourselves should give us cause to fear that we are giving but very little pleasureto our listeners.
It is often hard to determine whether a clear, open, and honorable proceeding is the result of goodness or of cunning.
Some good qualities are like the senses: Those who are entirely deprived of them can have no notion of them.
A weak mind is the only defect out of our power to mend.
There are a great many simpletons who know themselves to be so, and who make a very cunning use of their own simplicity.
We often are consoled by our want of reason for misfortunes that reason could not have comforted.