La jeunesse est le temps d'étudier la sagesse; la vieillesse est le temps de la pratiquer.
L'expérience instruit toujours, je l'avoue; mais elle ne profite que pour l'espace qu'on a devant soi. Est-il temps au moment qu'il faut mourir d'apprendre comment on aurait dû vivre?
Sad ending to a life obsessed too much with what others thought of him, or perhaps his own obsession with fame and being loved. Hard to say. I wish he would have walked quietly off into the sunset for five years and then died. It would have said more than this work did.
And I thought my diaries were maudlin and full of self-pity. This book is Rousseau lite, offering a quick summary of some of his major ideas about truth and man's relationships to nature and society all the while ruminating on life in (largely self-imposed) exile. At times, he was so over the top that I imagined Dave Chappelle reading some of this material aloud.
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