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Updated: June 8, 2025


Henry IV was always sensible that his abjuration would expose him to great dangers, which made him write in this manner to Mademoiselle d'Estrées: "On Sunday I shall take a dangerous leap. While I am writing to you I have a hundred troublesome people about me, which makes me detest St. Denis as much as you do Mantes," etc.

"To the nostrils: Through this holy unction and His divine pity, may the Lord pardon all the sins that you have committed through the sense of smell. At this moment the sick person should detest anew all the sins that he has committed through the sense of smell, his refined and voluptuous search for perfumes, all his sensibilities, all that he has breathed in of iniquitous odors.

"You only suppose?... Come now, you detest the war, as I do, and wish it were over; everything that I wrote there I have said to you, and you agreed...." "Yes, Papa." "Then you think I am right?" "Yes, Papa." She put her arms around his neck, "but we don't have to write everything that we think." Clerambault, much depressed, tried to explain what seemed so evident to him.

You thought you could buy me, and if your heart is heavy it is only because you have not succeeded because I will not sell myself. I dare say you have plenty of money, but if you had ten times as much you couldn't buy a better opinion of you than I have given. My only wish is never to see you again. I wish I could forget you! I detest you! I detest you!"

I have promised to relate the momentous incidents of my life, and have hitherto been faithful in my enumeration. There is nothing which I more detest than equivocation and mystery. Perhaps, however, I shall now incur some imputation of that kind. I would willingly escape the accusation, but confess that I am hopeless of escaping it.

I detest the impudence that pays a stranger compliments, and harangues about his works in the author's house, which is usually ill-breeding. Moreover, they are seldom long of making it evident that they know nothing about what they are talking of, except having seen the Lady of the Lake at the Opera. Dined at St.

Above all things I detest the writing for money. Fiction and verse appeal to a besotted public, that judges of the merit of the work by the standard of its taste: avaunt! And journalism for money is Egyptian bondage. No slavery is comparable to the chains of hired journalism. My pen is my fountain the key of me; and I give my self, I do not sell.

If only he had not the power to destroy all that was dearest to her heart, what pleasure it would have been to shout in his face: "I detest you, murderer, and I am the betrothed of another, who is as good and beautiful as you are vile and odious!"

That is enough to set any person against the righteousness of the Law and all the trimmings of men's own righteousness, the orders of monks and friars, and their superstitions. Who would not detest his own vows, his cowls, his shaven crown, his bearded traditions, yes, the very Law of Moses, when he hears that for such things he rejected the grace of God and the death of Christ.

The illness of Una had thrown a shadow over these last days at Rome, and it was in any case necessary to take her away. In a characteristic outburst Hawthorne writes to Fields: "I bitterly detest Rome, and shall rejoice to bid it farewell forever; and I fully acquiesce in all the mischief and ruin that has happened to it, from Nero's conflagration downward.

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