A Quote by Jeanne Julie Eleonore de Lespinasse

I love you as one should, to excess. With folly, delight and despair. — © Jeanne Julie Eleonore de Lespinasse
I love you as one should, to excess. With folly, delight and despair.
It's despair at the lack of feeling, of love, of reason in the world. It's despair that anyone can even contemplate the idea of dropping a bomb or ordering that it should be dropped. It's despair that so few of us care. It's despair that there's so much brutality and callousness in the world. It's despair that perfectly normal young men can be made vicious and evil because they've won a lot of money. And then do what you've done to me.
Despair is not a particularly respectable condition and yet despair and delight alternate like systole and diastole in my heart.
Prudence is a necessary ingredient in all the virtues, without which they degenerate into folly and excess.
Given a choice between a folly and a sacrament, one should always choose the folly—because we know a sacrament will not bring us closer to god and there’s always the chance that a folly will.
Excess in apparel is another costly folly. The very trimming of the vain world would clothe all the naked ones.
Gardening is ultimately a folly whose goal is to provide delight.
Despair is deadly sin, but worse, it is mortal folly.
There is no greater folly in the world than for a man to despair.
The love of lucre, though sometimes carried to a ridiculous excess, a vicious excess, is the grand cause of prosperity to all States.
My advice to girls: first, don't smoke - to excess; second, don't drink - to excess; third, don't marry - to excess.
It is an amiable part of human nature, that we should love our animals; it is even better to love them to the point of folly, than not to love them at all.
Love gives us copious potions of delight, Of pain and ecstasy, and peace and care; Love leads us upward, to the mountain height, And, like an angel, stands beside us there; Then thrusts us, demon-like, in some abyss: Where, in the darkness of despair, we grope, Till, suddenly, Love greets us with a kiss And guides us back to flowery fields of hope.
We live in a time of excess - excess population, excess information.
All sanity depends on this: that it should be a delight to feel heat strike the skin, a delight to stand upright, knowing the bones moving easily under the flesh.
Revenge is barren of itself: it is the dreadful food it feeds on; its delight is murder, and its end is despair.
Compared with the person who is conscious of his despair, the despairing individual who is ignorant of his despair is simply a negativity further away from the truth and deliverance. . . . Yet ignorance is so far from breaking the despair or changing despair to nondespairing that it can in fact be the most dangerous form of despair. . . . An individual is furthest from being conscious of himself as spirit when he is ignorant of being in despair. But precisely this-not to be conscious of oneself as spirit-is despair, which is spiritlessness. . . .
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!