Edmond Dantes Quotes

Abbe Faria: Here is your final lesson - do not commit the crime for which you now serve the sentence. God said, Vengeance is mine. Edmond Dantes: I don't believe in God. Abbe Faria: It doesn't matter. He believes in you.

A weakened mind always sees everything through a black veil. The soul makes its own horizons; your soul is dark, which is why you see such a cloudy sky.

Edmond Dantes: I don’t believe in God. Abbe Faria: That doesn’t matter, He believes in you…

The sum of all human wisdom will be contained in these two words: Wait and hope." ~Edmond Dantes

Why do you mention my father?' screamed he; 'Why do you mingle a recollection of him with the affairs of today?' Because I am he who saved your father's life when he wished to destroy himself, as you do today-because I am the man who sent the purse to your young sister, and the Paraon to Old Morrel-because I am the Edmond Dantes who nursed you, a child, on my knees.

He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life. Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget, that until the day when God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words, - ‘Wait and hope.’ – Your friend, Edmond Dantes, Count of Monte Cristo. The eyes of both were fixed on the spot indicated by the sailor, and on the blue-line separating the sky from the Mediterranean Sea, they perceived a large white sail.

You are my son Dantés! You are the child of my captivity. My priestly office condemned me to celibacy: God sent you to me both to console the man who could not be a father and the prisoner who could not be free

He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow, with black eyes, and hair as dark as the raven’s wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger.

She is not my mistress,' replied the young sailor gravely, ‘she is my betrothed.’ 'Sometimes one and the same thing,' said Morrel, with a smile. 'Not with us, sir,' replied Dantes.

I tended to fall in love with characters in books. Most guys I went to school with were far too interested in sports or video games. How could they hold a candle to Mister Darcy’s intensity, Tom Joad’s ethics, Martin Eden’s passion, Caleb Trask’s struggle for goodness, or Edmond Dantes’ cunning intellect?

The truth is,’ replied Dantes, ‘that I am too happy for noisy mirth; ...joy takes a strange effect at times, it seems to oppress us almost the same as sorrow.

Happiness is like one of those palaces on an enchanted island, its gates guarded by dragons. One must fight to gain in" -Edmond Dantes, Chapter 5

Yes; but one gets out of prison," said Caderousse, who, with what sense was left him, listened eagerly to the conversation, "and when one gets out and one's name is Edmond Dantes, one seeks revenge

Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget that until the day when God shall deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is summed up in these two words,—‘Wait and hope.’—Your friend, “Edmond Dantes, Count of Monte Cristo.

Enough,' said Mercedes, 'enough Edmond! Believe me that she who alone recognized you has been the only one to comprehend you. And had she crossed your path, and you had crushed her like a frail glass, still, Edmond, still she must have admired you! Like the gulf between me and the past, there is an abyss between you, Edmond, and the rest of mankind; and I tell you freely, that the comparison I drew between you and other men will be one of my greatest tortures. No! there is nothing in the world to resemble you in worth and goodness!

Do you repent?” asked a deep, solemn voice, which caused Danglars’ hair to stand on end. His feeble eyes endeavored to distinguish objects, and behind the bandit he saw a man enveloped in a cloak, half lost in the shadow of a stone column. “Of what must I repent?” stammered Danglars. “Of the evil you have done,” said the voice. “Oh, yes; oh, yes, I do indeed repent.” And he struck his breast with his emaciated fist. “Then I forgive you,” said the man, dropping his cloak, and advancing to the light. “The Count of Monte Cristo!” said Danglars, more pale from terror than he had been just before from hunger and misery. “You are mistaken—I am not the Count of Monte Cristo.” “Then who are you?” “I am he whom you sold and dishonored—I am he whose betrothed you prostituted—I am he upon whom you trampled that you might raise yourself to fortune—I am he whose father you condemned to die of hunger—I am he whom you also condemned to starvation, and who yet forgives you, because he hopes to be forgiven—I am Edmond Dantes!

Mirad, porque a fe mía es cosa curiosa. Allí tenéis un hombre que estaba resignado a su suerte, que marchaba al patíbulo, que iba a morir como un cobarde, es verdad, pero, después de todo, iba a morir sin blasfemar y sin resistirse, ¿y sabéis lo que le daba alguna fuerza? ¿Sabéis lo que le consolaba? ¿Sabéis lo que le hacía sufrir el suplicio con resignación…?, el que otro participaba de su angustia, que otro iba a morir como él, que otro iba a morir antes que él. Llevad dos carneros o dos bueyes al matadero, y haced comprender a uno de ellos que su compañero no morirá. El carnero balará de gozo y el buey mugirá de placer. Pero el hombre, el hombre que Dios ha creado a su imagen, el hombre a quien Dios impuso por primera, por única, por suprema ley, el amor al prójimo, el hombre a quien ha dado una voz para expresar su pensamiento, ¿cuál será su primer grito al saber que su compañero se ha salvado? Una blasfemia. ¡Oh!, ¡honor al hombre, a esa obra maestra de la naturaleza, a ese rey de la creación!

Having acknowledged that a man must master his circumstances or otherwise be mastered by them, the Count thought it worth considering how one was most likely to achieve this aim when one had been sentenced to a life of confinement. For Edmond Dantes in the Chateau d'If, it was thoughts of revenge that kept him clear minded. Unjustly imprisoned, he sustained himself by plotting the systematic undoing of his personal agents of villainy. For Cervantes, enslaved by pirates in Algiers, it was the promise of pages as yet unwritten that spurred him on. While for Napoleon on Elba, strolling among chickens, fending off flies, and sidestepping puddles of mud, it was visions of a triumphal return to Paris that galvanized his will to persevere. But the Count hadn't the temperament for revenge; he hadn't the imagination for epics; and he certainly hadn't the fanciful ego to dream of empires restored. No. His model for mastering his circumstances would be a different sort of captive altogether: an Anglican washed ashore. Like Robinson Crusoe stranded on the Isle of Despair, the Count would maintain his resolve by committing to the business of PRACTICALITIES. Having dispensed with dreams of quick discovery, the world's Crusoes seek shelter and a source of fresh water; they teacher themselves to make fire from flint; they study their island's topography, its climate, its flora and fauna, all the while keeping their eyes trained for sails on the horizon and footprints in the sand.

There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of living. "Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget that until the day when God shall deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is summed up in these two words, — `Wait and hope.' Your friend, "Edmond Dantes, Count