Villefort Quotes

Oh, the wickedness of man is very great," said Villefort, "since it surpasses the goodness of God.

No, Maximilien, I am not offended," answered she, "but do you not see what a poor, helpless being I am, almost a stranger and an outcast in my father's house, where even he is seldom seen; whose will has been thwarted, and spirits broken, from the age of ten years, beneath the iron rod so sternly held over me; oppressed, mortified, and persecuted, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, no person has cared for, even observed my sufferings, nor have I ever breathed one word on the subject save to yourself. Outwardly and in the eyes of the world, I am surrounded by kindness and affection; but the reverse is the case. The general remark is, `Oh, it cannot be expected that one of so stern a character as M. Villefort could lavish the tenderness some fathers do on their daughters. What though she has lost her own mother at a tender age, she has had the happiness to find a second mother in Madame de Villefort.' The world, however, is mistaken; my father abandons me from utter indifference, while my mother-in-law detests me with a hatred so much the more terrible because it is veiled beneath a continual smile.

And that you alone, among the men whom you do not recognize as your brothers- for you have said so," observed Villefort, in a tone that faltered somewhat- "you alone are perfect.

It was only then that he met Villefort’s dull gaze, that look peculiar to men of the law who do not want anyone to read their thoughts, and so make their eyes into unpolished glass. The look reminded him that he was standing before Justice, a figure of grim aspect and manners.

I have been told you have extreme political views,” said Villefort, who had never been told anything of the kind but was not sorry to put forward the statement in the form of an accusation.

She was in tears; and, strange as it was, in spite of the emotions he felt at the sight of these tears, he looked also at Madame de Villefort, and it appeared to him as if a slight gloomy smile had passed over her thin lips, like those meteors which are seen passing inauspiciously between two clouds in a stormy sky.

I have to admit,’ replied Villefort, looking at his father with astonishment, ‘you seem very well informed.’ ‘Heavens, it’s simple enough. You people, who hold power, have only what can be bought for money; we, who are waiting to gain power, have what is given out of devotion.’ ‘Devotion?’ Villefort laughed. ‘Yes, devotion. That is the honest way to describe ambition when it has expectations.

Indeed!" replied Villefort, looking at his father with astonishment , "you really do seem very well informed." "Eh? the thing is simple enough. You who are in power have only the means that money produces- we who are in expectation, have those which devotion prompts.

As we have seen, Villefort belonged to the nobility of the town and M. Morrel to the plebeian part of it: the former was an extreme Royalist, the latter suspected of harbouring Bonapartist sympathies. Villefort looked contemptuously at Morrel and answered coldly: ‘You know, Monsieur, that one can be mild in one’s private life, honest in one’s business dealings and skilled in one’s work, yet at the same time, politically speaking, be guilty of great crimes.

Oh, no; our breakfast comes from my father’s kitchen. Are you hungry?” “Humiliating as such a confession is, I am. But I dined at M. de Villefort’s, and lawyers always give you very bad dinners.

Entonces aquel escrito acusador que había visto en poder de Villefort, y que había tenido en sus manos, se representaba en su imaginación; cada línea se le aparecía iluminada en la pared como el Mane, Tecel,

While Dantès was speaking, Villefort examined his face, at once so mild and so frank, and recalled the words of Renée who, without knowing the prisoner, had begged indulgence for him. The deputy already had some acquaintance with crime and with criminals; so, in every word that Dantès spoke, he saw proof of his innocence. This young man, one might even say this child, plain, unaffected, eloquent with the heartfelt eloquence that is never found by those who seek it, full of affection for everyone, because he was happy and happiness makes even wicked men good, was so effectively spreading the warmth that overflowed from his heart that the accuser himself was not immune to it. Rough and stern though Villefort had been towards him, Edmond’s look, tone and gestures expressed nothing but kindness and goodwill towards his interrogator.

- Voi che avete il potere avete solo i mezzi forniti dal denaro; noi, che lo aspettiamo, abbiamo quelli forniti dalla devozione. - - Devozione? - chiese Villefort ridendo. - Si, devozione: è così che si chiama, in termini decenti, l’ambizione che spera. -

Eh? the thing is simple enough. You who are in power have only the means that money produces—we who are in expectation, have those which devotion prompts.” “Devotion!” said Villefort, with a sneer. “Yes, devotion; for that is, I believe, the phrase for hopeful ambition.

man is but an ugly caterpillar for him who studies him through a solar microscope; but you said, I think, that I had nothing else to do. Now, really, let me ask, sir, have you?—do you believe you have anything to do? or to speak in plain terms, do you really think that what you do deserves being called anything?” Villefort’s

Beaucoup de gens haïs ont été assassinés dans une émeute ; rarement un malheureux, fût-il criminel, a été insulté par les hommes qui assistaient à sa condamnation à mort. Villefort traversa donc la haie des spectateurs, des gardes, des gens du Palais, et s'éloigna, reconnu coupable de son propre aveu, mais protégé pur sa douleur.

Oh, M. de Villefort," cried a beautiful creature, daughter to the Comte de Salvieux, and the cherished friend of Mademoiselle de Saint-Meran, "do try and get up some famous trial while we are at Marseille. I never was in a law-court; I am told it is so very amusing!" "Amusing, certainly," replied the young man, "inasmuch as, instead of shedding tears as at the fictitious tale of woe produced at a theatre, you behold in a law-court a case of real and genuine distress - a drama of life. The prisoner whom you there see pale, agitated, and alarmed, instead of - as is the case when a curtain falls on a tragedy - going home to sup peacefully with his family, and then retiring to rest, that he may recommence his mimic woes on the morrow, - is removed from your sight merely to be reconducted to his prison and delivered up to the executioner. I leave you to judge how far your nerves are calculated to bear you through such a scene. Of this, however, be assured, that should any favorable opportunity present itself, I will not fail to offer you the choice of being present.

He had frequently called for capital punishment on criminals, and owing to his irresistible eloquence they had been condemned, and yet the slightest shadow of remorse had never clouded Villefort’s brow, because they were guilty; at least, he believed so; but here was an innocent man whose happiness he had destroyed. In this case he was not the judge, but the executioner.

There are other things to fear, Monsieur,' Villefort said, 'apart from death, old age and madness. For example, apoplexy, that lightning bolt which strikes you down without destroying you, yet after which all is finished. You are still yourself, but you are no longer yourself: from a near-angel like Ariel you have become a dull mass which, like Caliban, is close to the beasts. As I said, in human language, this is quite simply called an apoplexy or stroke.

De fato, aquele jovem — quase poderíamos dizer, aquela criança — simples, natural, eloquente, com aquela eloquência do coração que nunca se encontra quando se procura, cheio de afeição por todos, pois era feliz, e a felicidade torna bons até mesmo os maus, contagiava até seu juiz com a doce afabilidade que transbordava em seu coração. Edmond só tinha na voz, no olhar e nos gestos — por mais rude e severo que Villefort fosse com ele — carinho e bondade para aquele que o interrogava.

Noirtier looked towards the dictionary. Franz picked it up with a nervous shudder and said the letters of the alphabet until he reached ‘M’. Here the old man signalled ‘Yes’. ‘M!’ Franz repeated. The young man’s finger ran down the words but, at every one, Noirtier replied in the negative. Valentine’s head was buried in her hands. At last Franz reached the word: ‘MYSELF’. ‘Yes,’ the old man said. ‘You!’ Franz cried, his hair rising on his head. ‘You, Monsieur Noirtier! Did you kill my father?’ ‘Yes,’ Noirtier replied, fixing the young man with an imperious look. Franz’s feet could no longer support him and he slumped into a chair. Villefort opened the door and fled, for he had just had an impulse to stifle the last dregs of life still remaining in the old man’s fearsome heart.

Ecoutez, que vous importe à vous que je meure assassiné  ? êtes-vous mon ami  ? êtes-vous un homme  ? avez-vous un coeur ?... Non, vous êtes médecin  !... Eh bien, je vous dis : « Non, ma fille ne sera pas traînée par moi aux mains du bourreau  !... » Ah  ! voilà une idée qui me dévore, qui me pousse comme un insensé à creuser ma poitrine avec mes ongles  !... Et si vous vous trompiez, docteur  ! si c'était un autre que ma fille  ! Si, un jour, je venais, pâle comme un spectre, vous dire : Assassin  ! tu as tué ma fille... Tenez, si cela arrivait, je suis chrétien , monsieur d'Avrigny, et cependant je me tuerais  ! – C'est bien, dit le docteur après un instant de silence, j 'attendrai. » Villefort le regarda comme s'il doutait encore de ses paroles.« Seulement, continua M. d'Avrigny d'une voix lente et solennelle, si quelque personne

It wasn’t until I was actually in the F DAC-FEN aisle, holding our dog-eared copy of The Count of Monte Cristo in my hand, that I realized Edmund Dantès was absolutely, one-hundred-percent full of shit. If Edmund had taken his own advice, he would’ve sat in his jail cell waiting and hoping for forty years while the Count de Morcerf and Villefort and the rest of them stayed rich and happy. The real moral of The Count of Monte Cristo was surely something more like: If you screw someone over, be prepared for a vengeful mastermind to fuck up your life twenty years later. Or maybe it was: If you want justice and goodness to prevail in this world, you have to fight for it tooth and nail. And it will be hard, and costly, and probably illegal. You will have to break the rules.

El señor de Montecristo no está aquí en casa de mi padre; el señor de Montecristo no está aquí en casa de la señora de Villefort; el señor de Montecristo está en su casa.

On the whole, M. de Villefort made and returned few visits. His wife visited on his behalf: this was accepted in society, where it was attributed to the amount and gravity of the lawyer’s business – when it was, in reality, deliberate arrogance, an extreme example of aristocratic contempt, in short, the application of the maxim: ‘Admire yourself and others will admire you’, a hundred times more useful in our days than the Greek one: ‘Know thyself’, which has now been replaced by the less demanding and more profitable art of knowing others.

Death is in my house!’ Villefort cried. ‘You should rather say: crime,’ said the doctor.