Jeanne D'arc Quotes

Adolf Hitler was a Jeanne d'Arc, a saint. He was a martyr.

Rest in Peace?’ Why that phrase? That’s the most ridiculous phrase I’ve ever heard! You die, and they say ‘Rest in Peace!’ …Why would one need to ‘rest’ when they’re dead?! I spent thousands of years of world history resting. While Agamemnon was leading his ships to Troy, I was resting. While Ovid was seducing women at the chariot races, I was resting. While Jeanne d’Arc was hallucinating, I was resting. I wait until airplanes are scuttling across the sky to burst out onto the scene, and I’m only going to be here for a short while, so when I die, I certainly won’t need to rest again! Not while more adventures of the same kind are going on.

I am not afraid; I was born to do this.

I saw myself before an infuriated mob, facing the firing squad, weeping out of pity for the evil they could not understand, and forgiving!-Like Jeanne d'Arc!-'Priests, professors, masters, you are making a mistake in turning me over to the law. I have never belonged to this people; I have never been a Christian; I am of the race that sang under torture; laws I have never understood; I have no moral sense, I am a brute: you are making a mistake.' Yes, my eyes are closed to your light. I am a beast, a nigger. But I can be saved. You are sham niggers, you, maniacs, fiends, misers. Merchant, you are a nigger; Judge, you are a nigger; General, you are a nigger; Emperor, old itch, you are a nigger: you have drunk of the untaxed liquor of Satan's still.-Fever and cancer inspire this people. Cripples and old men are so respectable they are fit to be boiled.-The smartest thing would be to leave this continent where madness stalks to provide hostages for these wretches. I enter the true kingdom of the children of Ham.

Why is it a shame for me to cause them to die and try to exterminate them, tell me? You did not talk that way when you used to come to my house in Jeanne-d'Arc street. Ah! it is a shame! You have not done as much, with your cross of honor! I deserve more merit than you, do you understand, more than you, for I have killed more Prussians than you!

What an excellent and really marvellous thing is this materialism! Not every one who wants it can have it. Ah! when one does have it, one is no longer a dupe, one does not stupidly allow one's self to be exiled like Cato, nor stoned like Stephen, nor burned alive like Jeanne d'Arc. Those who have succeeded in procuring this admirable materialism have the joy of feeling themselves irresponsible, and of thinking that they can devour everything without uneasiness,—places, sinecures, dignities, power, whether well or ill acquired, lucrative recantations, useful treacheries, savory capitulations of conscience,—and that they shall enter the tomb with their digestion accomplished.

It is better to be alone with God. His friendship will not fail me, nor His counsel, nor His love. In His strength I will dare and dare and dare until I die.

She is of the race of Jeanne d’Arc, this Northern girl, in her voice, her bearing, her beliefs. That kind if not to be possessed by one man; she belongs to a cause, to the people.

Onun duygusal heyecanlarının nasıl olduğunu merak ediyorum. Belli ki hiç âşık olmamış, bunu yapamayacak kadar özgür süzülen bir ruhu var; o, sevdiği birinin kollarında olmayı günü gelmeden çok önce kolayca düşleyebilen, teoride deneyimli bakirelerden biri hiç değil. Gerçek yaşamda karşılaştığı karakterler onu, düşlerinin gerçekle ilgisi konusunda düşündürecek kadar çok değildir. Ruhu hâlâ ideallerin kutsal nektarıyla besleniyor. Ama önünde uçuşan ideal, bir çoban kızı sayılmaz, ya da bir aşk romanının kadın kahramanı bir sevgili de değil; bir Jeanne d’Arc ya da öyle bir şey.

Aş vrea să-i cunosc adevăratele sentimente.Cred că n-a fost niciodată îndrăgostită,prea pare cu capu-n lună;în orice caz nu face parte din categoria demoazelelor,teoretic pline de experienţă,pentru care e atât de uşor să se imagineze,mult înante de vremea cuvenită,în braţele unui soţ iubit.Personajele din viaţa reală cu care ea a avut de-a face n-au reuşit să-i tulbure modul de a concepe visul şi realitatea.Inima ei e hrănită şi acum cu ambrozia divină a iealurilor.Numai că idealul ei nu e nici o veselă păstoriţă,nici o eroină de roman,nici o îndrăgostită,ci o Jeanne d'arc sau cam aşa ceva.

Yaşlı adam der: melegim nasıl istersen, yeter ki, şu pırıl pırıl akşamı doyurmayı bilsen ve koluma girip bir süre yürüsen, sözleşmiş ıhlamur ağaçlarının kehanetini çözebilsen, ölüdür kitaplar, gerilimini yitirmiştir dünyanın kutupları, kalmışsa daha karanlık akışın bir arada tuttukları, onları da birbirinden ayırır senin saçlarındaki toka. Rüzgar, durmaksızın girer, vurmadan kapıma, ayın ıslığı -ve sonra bir hamle, gözün alabildiğine, aşk, artık bilenmiştir anıların gücüyle. Genç adam sorar: ve hep gelecek misin? Odamdaki gölgelerin üstüne yemin etmelisin, ve karanlık ama gerçekse ıhlamurların kehaneti, söyle onu çiçeklerin diliyle, aç saçlarının tellerini ve gecenin coşup taşmak isteyen nabzını! Sonra aydan gelen bir işaret, durdurun rüzgarı. Rahatı simgeler mavi ışıkta lambalar, ta ki oda, soluk bir zamana bürünene kadar, hafiften ısırılan dudakların varır benimkilere, o zaman acıdır başlayan, sana ders vermeye: dünyanın kazandığı, oynadığı ve yitirdiği sözcük, canlıdır, ondan sonrası ise, aşkın başlangıcıdır. Genç kız susuyor iğ dönene kadar. Yıldız kayıyor. Geçip gidiyor güllerin zamanı: -Siz, beyler, verin elime kılıcı, ve Jeanne d'Arc vatanı kurtarıyor. Sizler, gemiyi geçiriyoruz buzların arasından, ben, artık kimsenin bilmediği rotada ilerlemekteyim.

Sometimes you characters give me a pain in the back of my lap,” said Manuel abruptly. “I hang around with you and listen to simple-minded gobbledegook in yard-long language, if it’s you talking, Dran, and pink-and-purple sissification from the brat here. Why I do it I’ll never know. And it goes that way up to the last gasp. So you’re going to leave. Dran has to make a speech, real logical. Vaughn has to blow out a sigh and get misty-eyed.” He spat. “How would you handle it?” Dran asked, amused. Vaughn stared at Manuel whitely. “Me? You really want to know?” “This I want to hear,” said Vaughn between her teeth. “I’d wait a while—a long while—until neither of you was talking. Then I’d say, ‘I joined the Marines yesterday.’ And you’d both look at me a little sad. There’s supposed to be something wrong with coming right out and saying something. Let’s see. Suppose I do it the way Vaughn would want me to.” He tugged at an imaginary braid and thrust out his lower lip in a lampoon of Vaughn’s full mouth. He sighed gustily. “I have felt …” He paused to flutter his eyelashes. “I have felt the call to arms,” he said in a histrionic whisper. He gazed off into the middle distance. “I have heard the sound of trumpets. The drums stir in my blood.” He pounded his temples with his fists. “I can’t stand it—I can’t! Glory beckons. I will away to foreign strands.” Vaughn turned on her heel, though she made no effort to walk away. Dran roared with laughter. “And suppose I’m you,” said Manuel, his face taut with a suppressed grin. He leaned easily against the base of the statue and crossed his legs. He flung his head back. “Zeno of Miletus,” he intoned, “in reflecting on the cromislon of the fortiseetus, was wont to refer to a razor as ‘a check for a short beard.’ While shaving this morning I correlated ‘lather’ with ‘leather’ and, seeing some of it on my neck, I recalled the old French proverb, ‘Jeanne D’Arc,’ which means: The light is out in the bathroom. The integration was complete. If the light was out I could no longer shave. Therefore I can not go on like this. Also there was this matter of the neck. I shall join the Marines. Q. E. D., which means thus spake Zarathusiasm.” Dran chuckled. Vaughn made a furious effort, failed, and burst out laughing. When it subsided, Manuel said soberly, “I did.” “You did what?” “I joined the Marines yesterday.

L’orgueil, c’est se prendre pour ce qu’on n’est pas et rabaisser les autres; la fierté, c’est savoir ce qu’on est et ne pas se laisser abaisser. La fierté n’empêche pas l’homme de s’abaisser devant ce qui le dépasse; elle est loin d’être contraire à l’humilité vraie, quoi qu’en disent les moralistes les plus superficiels. A la question : « Croyez-vous en Dieu? » Jeanne d’Arc répondit : « Mieux que vous! » — Un autre exemple d’humble fierté est cette réponse d’un guru hindou à un voyageur mondain : « Je ne suis pas digne d’être votre maître, et vous n’êtes pas digne d’être mon disciple. »

She thought of the cake that she was going to make for Solange's confirmation. She and Jeanne d'Arc had agreed on a vanilla cake in the shape of a Christian cross, white on top to convey purity and with a turquoise and white basketweave design piped around the sides to match the confirmation dress, which was white with turquoise ribbons threaded through it. Solange's name would be piped in turquoise across the top.

See, girl,” Rowan said. “You cannot learn the sword. No woman can.” “What about Jeanne d’Arc?” Cass asked. “She wielded a sword.” Rowan snorted as he sheathed his blade. “She wielded words.” Cass knew from her lessons that Jeanne had been more of a charismatic leader than an actual fighter, but she had led men into battle. “It’s as if you believe women to be useless for fighting,” she said. “Of course they’re not,” Rowan said. He approached Cass and made a slow circle around her, his dark eyes studying each curve of her body in the least sensual way possible. Cass felt like a cow being evaluated for the roasts and fillets it could become. “But like everyone else, if you want to be effective, it helps to play to your strengths.” His eyes lingered on her breasts for a moment. Cass resisted the urge to cross her arms. “Meaning what?” “Distraction, for one.” A couple of the men chortled.

The history of Courcelles is one well known within the annals of chivalry. Across these fields the Merovingian kings fought their battles. From this castle did the Lord of Courcelles sally forth on Crusade with his retinue of knights. And it was here, as legend has it, that the Demoiselle of Courcelles, the first of that name, Lady Melisande, brought the blessed Dame of Orleans, none other than Jeanne d’Arc, and besought her lord to follow the saint into battle for the glory of France.

Moi je rêve qu'une fille puisse choisir la vie qu'elle veut, je rêve qu'elle puisse exercer le métier qu'elle veut, je rêve qu'elle puisse décider d'avoir des enfants ou non !

Yolande d'Aragon, redoutable belle-mère du dauphin Charles : Je suis ravie que le Tout-Puissant ait choisi une femme pour servir le Royaume de France. En quatre-vingt dix ans les bonshommes ont tout foiré. Il est temps de passer le relais au sexe faible, non ? - Je me rends compte que je n'ai pas posé cette question à mes saints messagers, répond Jeannette. Pourquoi une femme ? C'est tout de même étonnant, vous ne trouvez pas ? - Pas du tout. Ca se tient. Dieu nous sait plus tenaces, moins douillettes, plus réfléchies, moins vénales, plus résistantes à la tentation, moins égocentriques, plus subtiles... Il a fallu une éternité au Roi du Ciel, mais Il a percuté. Je veux le croire. Il faudra encore quelques siècles, mais nous mènerons le monde.

I place trust in God, my creator, in all things; I love Him with all my heart.

Everything I have said or done is in the hands of God. I commit myself to Him! I certify to you that I would do or say nothing against the Christian faith.

I die for speaking the language of the angels.

[...] Dans cette question des limites de fait ou de droit du sentiment patriotique, il convient de rappeler tout d’abord qu’il y a patrie et patrie : il y a celle de la terre et celle du Ciel ; la seconde est prototype et mesure de la première, elle lui donne son sens et sa légitimité. C’est ainsi que dans l’enseignement évangélique l’amour de Dieu prime, et peut par conséquent contredire, l’amour des proches parents, sans qu’il y ait là aucune offense à la charité ; la créature doit d’ailleurs être aimée « en Dieu », c’est à dire que l’amour ne lui appartient jamais en entier. Le Christ ne s’est soucié que de la Patrie céleste, qui « n’est pas de ce monde » ; c’est suffisant, non pour renier le fait naturel d’une patrie terrestre, mais pour s’abstenir de tout culte abusif – et avant tout illogique – du pays d’origine. Si le Christ a désavoué les attachements temporels, il n’en a pas moins admis les droits de la nature, dans le domaine qui est le leur, droits éminemment relatifs qu’il ne s’agit pas d’ériger en idoles ; c’est ce que saint Augustin a magistralement traité, sous un certain rapport tout au moins, dans Civitas Dei. Le patriotisme normal est à la fois déterminé et limité par les valeurs éternelles ; « il ne s’enfle point » et ne pervertit pas l’esprit ; il n’est pas, comme le chauvinisme, l’oubli officiel de l’humilité et de la charité en même temps que l’anesthésie de toute une partie de l’intelligence ; restant dans ses limites, il est capable de susciter les plus belles vertus, sans être un parasite de la religion. Il faut se garder des interprétations abusives du passé historique ; l’œuvre de Jeanne d’Arc n’a rien à voir avec le nationalisme moderne, d’autant que la sainte à suivi l’impulsion, non point d’un nationalisme naturel – ce qui eût été légitime – mais celle d’une volonté céleste, qui voyait loin. La France fut pendant des siècles le pivot du Catholicisme ; une France anglaise eût signifié en fin de compte une Europe protestante et la fin de l’Eglise catholique ; c’est ce que voulurent prévenir les « voix ». L’absence de toute passion, chez Jeanne, ses paroles sereines à l’égard des Anglais, corroborent pleinement ce que nous venons de dire et devrait suffire pour mettre la sainte à l’abri de toute imposture rétrospective (1).[...] 1 – De même, l’étendard de Jeanne fut tout autre chose qu’un drapeau révolutionnaire unissant, dans un même culte profane, croyants et incroyants. ["Usurpations du sentiment religieux", Études Traditionnelles, décembre 1965.]

[...] Dans cette question des limites de fait ou de droit du sentiment patriotique, il convient de rappeler tout d’abord qu’il y a patrie et patrie : il y a celle de la terre et celle du Ciel ; la seconde est prototype et mesure de la première, elle lui donne son sens et sa légitimité. C’est ainsi que dans l’enseignement évangélique l’amour de Dieu prime, et peut par conséquent contredire, l’amour des proches parents, sans qu’il y ait là aucune offense à la charité ; la créature doit d’ailleurs être aimée « en Dieu », c’est à dire que l’amour ne lui appartient jamais en entier. Le Christ ne s’est soucié que de la Patrie céleste, qui « n’est pas de ce monde » ; c’est suffisant, non pour renier le fait naturel d’une patrie terrestre, mais pour s’abstenir de tout culte abusif – et avant tout illogique – du pays d’origine. Si le Christ a désavoué les attachements temporels, il n’en a pas moins admis les droits de la nature, dans le domaine qui est le leur, droits éminemment relatifs qu’il ne s’agit pas d’ériger en idoles ; c’est ce que saint Augustin a magistralement traité, sous un certain rapport tout au moins, dans Civitas Dei. Le patriotisme normal est à la fois déterminé et limité par les valeurs éternelles ; « il ne s’enfle point » et ne pervertit pas l’esprit ; il n’est pas, comme le chauvinisme, l’oubli officiel de l’humilité et de la charité en même temps que l’anesthésie de toute une partie de l’intelligence ; restant dans ses limites, il est capable de susciter les plus belles vertus, sans être un parasite de la religion. Il faut se garder des interprétations abusives du passé historique ; l’œuvre de Jeanne d’Arc n’a rien à voir avec le nationalisme moderne, d’autant que la sainte à suivi l’impulsion, non point d’un nationalisme naturel – ce qui eût été légitime – mais celle d’une volonté céleste, qui voyait loin. La France fut pendant des siècles le pivot du Catholicisme ; une France anglaise eût signifié en fin de compte une Europe protestante et la fin de l’Eglise catholique ; c’est ce que voulurent prévenir les « voix ». L’absence de toute passion, chez Jeanne, ses paroles sereines à l’égard des Anglais, corroborent pleinement ce que nous venons de dire et devrait suffire pour mettre la sainte à l’abri de toute imposture rétrospective (1).[...] 1 – De même, l’étendard de Jeanne fut tout autre chose qu’un drapeau révolutionnaire unissant, dans un même culte profane, croyants et incroyants. "Usurpations du sentiment religieux", Études Traditionnelles, décembre 1965.

Successful American presidents project a populist image. They do not place themselves above their compatriots but strive whenever possible to show qualities typical of “average” Americans. If they have an intellectual bent, they do their best to hide it. To be likable, smiling, and unpretentious is all-important, to express the values of middle America an essential prerequisite for greatness. In France, great leaders historically do exactly the opposite: They stand above the masses, remote figures embodying France’s gloire and grandeur. They don’t try to be folksy or common in speech. No one cultivated this image more assiduously than de Gaulle. The general was not shy about invoking Notre Dame de France—Our Lady of France—or about identifying himself with national heroes such as Jeanne d’Arc and Clemenceau. Roosevelt, though reasonably familiar with the French language and culture, did not comprehend this French mythmaking, while de Gaulle, in his general ignorance of American ways, viewed FDR’s geniality as a guise for hypocrisy and artifice.3

And how grave and dangerous it is to search curiously into the things passing our understanding, to put faith in what is new without consulting the opinion of the Church and its prelates; and even to invent new and unaccustomed things, for devils are wont to insinuate themselves into this kind of oddity, either by occult instigation or by visible apparitions in which they transform themselves into angels of light, and beneath an appearance of piety or some other good they lead one on to pernicious pacts, plunge one into error, as is permitted by God to punish the presumption of those who allow themselves to be carried away by such things. Therefore he admonished her to renounce these vain imaginations, to cease propagating such falsehoods, and to return to the way of truth.

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!

Hold the cross high so I may see it through the flames.

Michelet has done a good deal, it is true, to make Jeanne d’Arc popular and famous; but it was as the spokesman for the national sense of the people, not as a mystic or a saint, that she interested him. “What legend is more beautiful,” he writes, “than this incontestable story? But one must be careful not to make it into a legend. One must piously preserve all its circumstances, even the most human; one must respect its touching and terrible humanity…However deeply the historian may have been moved in writing this gospel, he has kept a firm hold on the real and never yielded to the temptation of idealism.” And he insisted that Jeanne d’Arc had established the modern type of hero of action, “contrary to passive Christianity.” His approach was thus entirely rational, based squarely on the philosophy of the eighteenth century – anti-clerical, democratic. And for this reason, the History fo the Middle Ages, important as it is, and for all its acute insight and its passages of marvelous eloquence, seems to me less satisfactory than the other parts of Michelet’s history.What Michelet admires are not the virtues which the chivalrous and Christian centuries cultivated, but the heroisms of the scientist and the artist, the Protestant in religion and politics, the efforts of man to understand his situation and rationally to control his development. Throughout the Middle Ages, Michelet is impatient for the Renaissance.

Both were illogical and heretical by essence;—in strict discipline, in the days of the Holy Office, a hundred years later, both would have been burned by the Church, as Jeanne d'Arc was, with infinitely less reason, in 1431.

The Bishop clapped his hands. ‘That’s talking!’ he exclaimed. ‘What an excellent and really marvellous thing is this materialism! Not every one who wants it can have it. Ah! when one does have it, one is no longer a dupe, one does not stupidly allow one’s self to be exiled like Cato, nor stoned like Stephen, nor burned alive like Jeanne d’Arc. Those who have succeeded in procuring this admirable materialism have the joy of feeling themselves irresponsible, and of thinking that they can devour everything without uneasiness,—places, sinecures, dignities, power, whether well or ill acquired, lucrative recantations, useful treacheries, savory capitulations of conscience,—and that they shall enter the tomb with their digestion accomplished. How agreeable that is! I do not say that with reference to you, senator. Nevertheless, it is impossible for me to refrain from congratulating you. You Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 57 great lords have, so you say, a philosophy of your own, and for yourselves, which is exquisite, refined, accessible to the rich alone, good for all sauces, and which seasons the voluptuousness of life admirably. This philosophy has been extracted from the depths, and unearthed by special seekers. But you are good-natured princes, and you do not think it a bad thing that belief in the good God should constitute the philosophy of the people, very much as the goose stuffed with chestnuts is the truffled turkey of the poor.

If only you hadn't intervened, Miss Erina! Then these ruffians would have flunked out like the insignificant third-rate cooks that they are! Listen, you lot! You only survived because of Miss Erina's mercy! Without a magnanimous Nakiri there to hold your filthy hands, you wouldn't have-" "You are incorrect, sir. All I did was teach them the special properties a potato holds. How to use those potatoes and the inspiration to make Gosetsu Udon Noodles was entirely theirs. Remember this well, sir. These chefs... ... are of much too high a caliber to fail because of the likes of you." No! This is not how it was supposed to be! The Resisters were not supposed to be this organized!! This unified! And with this level of leadership, they won't easily be divided and conquered! It... it's almost as if Jeanne d'Arc herself was reincarnated! "Come. Follow me." A Holy Lady Knight leading an army... ... to wrench control of the Totsuki Institute away from Central!

Vous êtes cil que je quérais Vrai roi de France parmi tous... Dieu vous a eu en souvenance.

Nous sommes tous perdus, car c'est une bonne et sainte personne qui à été brulée.

Compiègne Ik had gedroomd, ik zat met Jeanne te paard; Wij reden door de bossen van Compiègne; Het duister glom in ’t handvest van haar zwaard. En voor haar, met haar standaard en insigne Reed stram Le Hire, de duivel in zijn baard; Ik rook de geur der paarden in de regen. — Ik had gedroomd. Ik had een schim ontwaard Met blik en bezem bezig stof te vegen. Op ’t stadhuis van Compiègne sloeg het negen.

És nincs útmutató a nővé váláshoz – ahogy a lottónyeréshez vagy a híressé váláshoz sincs –, noha a tét igen magas. Csak a jó ég tudja, 13 évesen mennyire kerestem ilyet. Lehet mások tapasztalatairól olvasni e témában – ahogy az ember a vizsgákra próbál magolni –, de úgy találtam, hogy ez önmagában is problematikus. Mert olyan nők történeteit lehet olvasni a történelem minden korszakából, akik – minden esély ellenére – nőként igazán megvalósították magukat, de végül megalkudtak, boldogtalanok lettek, nyomorultak, vagy tönkrementek, mert körülöttük a társadalom még mindig tévedésben volt. Mutassanak csak egy lánynak egy úttörő hősnőt – mint Sylvia Plath, Dorothy Parker, Frida Kahlo, Kleopátra, Boudicca vagy Jeanne D'Arc –, és legtöbbször olyan nőt látnak, akit végül porrá zúztak. A nehezen kivívott győzelmek teljességgel semmissé válnak, ha olyan környezetben élünk, ahol e diadalokat fenyegetőnek, helytelennek, ízléstelennek vagy – és egy kamaszlány esetében ez a legsarkalatosabb – cikinek ítélik. Kevés lány lány választja azt, hogy igaza legyen – igaza, egészen az okos, zseniális csontja velejéig –, viszont magányos maradjon.

Tu sais, le moment révolutionnaire - j'ai essayé de l'expliquer de différentes manières - est un moment exaltant parce que c'est quelque chose de nouveau pour lequel on peut s'engager. Je l'ai dit de la façon la plus simple que j'aie pu trouver : "La révolution est comme un enfant : il est tout mignon quand il naît, mais il est possible que, dix ans plus tard, il devienne con, bossu et méchant." De la même manière, quand elle naît, la Révolution est fascinante, car elle promet la nouveauté. Imagine : si aujourd'hui, en Italie, arrivait un Savonarole, ou une Jeanne d'Arc disant : "Allez, renonçons à tout, mangeons deux fois moins !", les gens n'hésiteraient pas une seconde, Folco. Un jeune sur deux aujourd'hui serait heureux de jeter son téléphone portable dans le lac pour avoir quelque chose de mieux. Mais, plus tard, on se rendrait compte que le portable était utile, que le lac est pollué... Ainsi va la vie... (p. 255)

Ludovica, dite Jeanne d’Arc, prof de philo, se bat pour les droits de l’homme, elle fait signer des pétitions, elle collecte de l’argent, elle parle du passé et des traditions et, les jours ouvrables elle est la réceptionnaire de l’hôtel. Ah ! Il y a aussi Mathilde. L’apatride. Citoyenne du monde ! Vagabonde universelle ! Qu’est-ce que c’est que ça, la patrie, la matrice, le foyer universel ? (p. 30)