My reason, it's true, controls my feelings, but whatever its authority, it doesn't rule them so much as tyrannize them.
quote by Pierre Corneille
Added by Lucian Velea
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An example is often a deceptive mirror, and the order of destiny, so troubling to our thoughts, is not always found written in things past.
quote by Pierre Corneille
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Felicity
All Mankind’s felicity
stays prey to instability,
and may in no time fall from grace, -
as with glass, shattered, none replace, -
they share the same fragility
poem by Pierre Corneille, translated by Jonathan Robin
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Love is the extra effort we make in our dealings with those whom we do not like and once you understand that, you understand all. This idea that love overtakes you is nonsense. This is but a polite manifestation of sex. To love another you have to undertake some fragment of their destiny.
classic quote by Pierre Corneille
Added by Lucian Velea
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VA Pour Vapour
If one lover I lose
two replace as hot wire,
though vow, promise I use
to divert, set pace higher,
perjure, promise recuse,
soon in Time’s wind expire.
When a fair face I see
I feel sudden afire,
but for life lock love’s key
ain’t my style spite my lyre.
Constant court paid, for me,
is not goal I require
More flighty than moon, -
free range change I admire, -
blond, brunette, free to spoon.
Constant cravings soon tire:
both brunette, blond too soon
senses sap, jade desire.
poem by Pierre Corneille, translated by Jonathan Robin
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Epitaphe Sur La Mort De Damoiselle Elisabeth Ranquet
Ne verse point de pleurs sur cette sépulture,
Passant ; ce lit funèbre est un lit précieux,
Où gît d'un corps tout pur la cendre toute pure ;
Mais le zèle du coeur vit encore en ces lieux.
Avant que de payer le droit de la nature,
Son âme, s'élevant au-delà de ses yeux,
Avait au Créateur uni la créature ;
Et marchant sur la terre elle était dans les cieux.
Les pauvres bien mieux qu'elle ont senti sa richesse
L'humilité, la peine, étaient son allégresse ;
Et son dernier soupir fut un soupir d'amour.
Passant, qu'à son exemple un beau feu te transporte ;
Et, loin de la pleurer d'avoir perdu le jour,
Crois qu'on ne meurt jamais quand on meurt de la sorte.
poem by Pierre Corneille
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