Essays of Michel de Montaigne — Volume 03Montaigne, Michel de
Philosophy
Essays of Michel de Montaigne — Volume 03
Montaigne, Michel de
French essays -- Translations into English
Accommodated my subject to my strength
Affright people with the very mention of death
All I aim at is, to pass my time at my ease
All think he has yet twenty good years to come
Apprenticeship and a resemblance of death
Become a fool by too much wisdom
Both himself and his posterity declared ignoble, taxable
Caesar: he would be thought an excellent engineer to boot
Courtesy and good manners is a very necessary study
Dangers do, in truth, little or nothing hasten our end
Death can, whenever we please, cut short inconveniences
Death has us every moment by the throat
Death is a part of you
Denying all solicitation, both of hand and mind
Did my discourses came only from my mouth or from my heart
Die well--that is, patiently and tranquilly.
Discover what there is of good and clean in the bottom of the po
Downright and sincere obedience
Every day travels towards death; the last only arrives at it.
Fear is more importunate and insupportable than death itself
Fear to lose a thing, which being lost, cannot be lamented?
Fear: begets a terrible astonishment and confusion
Feared, lest disgrace should make such delinquents desperate
Give these young wenches the things they long for
Have you ever found any who have been dissatisfied with dying?
How many more have died before they arrived at thy age
How many several ways has death to surprise us?
How much more insupportable and painful an immortal life
I have lived longer by this one day than I should have done
I take hold of, as little glorious and exemplary as you will
If nature do not help a little, it is very hard
In this last scene of death, there is no more counterfeiting
Inclination to love one another at the first sight
Indocile liberty of this member
Insensible of the stroke when our youth dies in us
Live at the expense of life itself.
Much better to offend him once than myself every day
Nature, who left us in such a state of imperfection
Neither men nor their lives are measured by the ell
No man more certain than another of to-morrow.--Seneca
No one can be called happy till he is dead and buried
Not certain to live till I came home
Not melancholic, but meditative
Nothing can be a grievance that is but once
Philosophy is nothing but to prepare one's self to die
Premeditation of death is the premeditation of liberty
Profit made only at the expense of another
Rather prating of another man's province than his own
Same folly as to be sorry we were not alive a hundred years ago
Slaves, or exiles, ofttimes live as merrily as other folk
some people rude, by being overcivil in their courtesy
The day of your birth is one day's advance towards the grave
The deadest deaths are the best
The thing in the world I am most afraid of is fear
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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