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The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau
Book 9

Page 167 of 167

Tyranny of persons who called themselves my friends
Virtuous minds, which vice never attacks openly
When once we make a secret of anything to the person we love
Without the least scruple, freely disposing of my time
Writing for bread would soon have extinguished my genius 

End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of The Confessions of Rousseau, v9
by Jean Jacques Rousseau 


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