“These are the secrets of the future,” said Milton.  “I, like yourself, admire your impassioned nation; but I fear them for themselves.  I do not well understand them; and I do not recognize their wisdom when I see them lavishing their admiration upon men such as he who now rules you.  The love of power is very puerile; and this man is devoured by it, without having force enough to seize it wholly.  By an utter absurdity, he is a tyrant under a master.  Thus has this colossus, never firmly balanced, been all but overthrown by the finger of a boy.  Does that indicate genius?  No, no! when genius condescends to quit the lofty regions of its true home for a human passion, at least, it should grasp that passion in its entirety.  Since Richelieu only aimed at power, why did he not, if he was a genius, make himself absolute master of power?  I am going to see a man who is not yet known, and whom I see swayed by this miserable ambition; but I think that he will go farther.  His name is Cromwell!”

     ETEXT editor’s bookmarks: 

     A cat is a very fine animal.  It is a drawing-room tiger
     But how avenge one’s self on silence? 
     Deny the spirit of self-sacrifice
     Hatred of everything which is superior to myself
     Hermits can not refrain from inquiring what men say of them
     Princes ought never to be struck, except on the head
     These ideas may serve as opium to produce a calm
     They loved not as you love, eh?

     ETEXT editor’s bookmarks for the entire Cinq Mars: 

     A cat is a very fine animal.  It is a drawing-room tiger
     A queen’s country is where her throne is
     Adopted fact is always better composed than the real one
     Advantage that a calm temper gives one over men
     All that he said, I had already thought
     Always the first word which is the most difficult to say
     Ambition is the saddest of all hopes
     Art is the chosen truth
     Artificialities of style of that period
     Artistic Truth, more lofty than the True
     As Homer says, “smiling under tears”
     Assume with others the mien they wore toward him
     But how avenge one’s self on silence? 
     Dare now to be silent when I have told you these things
     Daylight is detrimental to them
     Deny the spirit of self-sacrifice
     Difference which I find between Truth in art and the True in fac
     Doubt, the greatest misery of love
     Friendship exists only in independence and a kind of equality
     Happy is he who does not outlive his youth
     Hatred of everything which is superior to myself
     He did not blush to be a man, and he spoke to men with force
     Hermits can not refrain from inquiring what men say of them
     History too was a work of art
     I have burned all the bridges behind me