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Updated: May 4, 2025
His obviously artificial style of speech concealed, as she guessed, some real feeling. "Oh, if you insist on disparaging yourself...!" "I was quite as coolly correct as I apprehend him to be; and if I could only have contrived to compass the charming, as well, who knows what ?" "You don't like my word. Is there a better, a more suitable?" "No. You have the mot juste."
"It is my glory, mademoiselle, to have been of that class to which belonged Madame Roland herself, and which represented that juste milieu which maintained the balance of society in France. When the dregs of the bas peuple rose to the surface of the revolution, commenced by the sound middle classes, we regarded the scum of aristocracy as the smaller of the two evils.
"It's a secret," she muttered into the pillow. "You might tell me!" "Go away, Jeannot!" she burst out hysterically. He gave an angry lunge against the bed. "I tell you everything; and it's not fair. C'est pas juste!" he said savagely, but there were tears in his voice too. He was a creature at once sensitive and violent, passionately attached to Mimi. He thudded back to his bed.
"Les grands Dieux savent seuls si l'ame est immortelle, Mais le juste travaille a leur oeuvre eternelle." My birthplace. My father and mother. Circumstances of their marriage. Their short married life. Birth of their child. Death of my mother. Her character and habits. My father as a widower. Dulness of his life. Its degradation.
Soames did not, after this monosyllable, pass along. He stood patiently there, rather like a dumb animal, rather like a donkey looking over a gate. A sad figure, his. It occurred to me that 'hungry' was perhaps the mot juste for him; but hungry for what? He looked as if he had little appetite for anything.
Philip was about to return to his paternal dominions. Charles the Fifth was in his retirement in the convent of Saint Juste. The Inquisitor-general, Valdes, became more than ever certain that heresy was extending. Herezuelo and Dona Leonor were at Valladolid. They were at their lodgings in that city when a certain Juan Garcia, a goldsmith, was announced.
Cibber what made him fancy the house had lost its virtue in Mr. Vane's hands. "Because," said Cibber, peevishly, "you all want the true savoir faire nowadays, because there is no juste milieu, young gentlemen. The young dogs of the day are all either unprincipled heathen, like yourself, or Amadisses, like our worthy host."
The little fellow was not satisfied with the admiration of the beholders; he ran homewards, with his clothes in his hand, Denis at his heels, and his game dangling from his waist, and dripping as he ran. "Many a white would shudder to see that child," said Moyse, as Juste disappeared. "That is the way Jean's blacks wore their trophies during the first days of the insurrection."
"The greatest of English poets has said that a rose by any ..." This also stopped abruptly. The next annotation at the side was almost undecipherable, but seemed to be something like "How about old Steevens and the mot juste? E.g...." "Morning winked a little wearily at me over the curt edge of Campden Hill and its houses with their sharp shadows.
Soames did not, after this monosyllable, pass along. He stood patiently there, rather like a dumb animal, rather like a donkey looking over a gate. A sad figure, his. It occurred to me that "hungry" was perhaps the mot juste for him; but hungry for what? He looked as if he had little appetite for anything.
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