It is like sliding down a hill; when you have once begun you cannot stop yourself, and you go on until there is a crash; then it may be you pick yourself up sorely wounded and bruised, and begin to reclimb the hill slowly and painfully; it may be that you are dashed to pieces.

I am not a politician.

I do not care much for the life of Paris, and am well content to live quietly here on our estates; but even I can see that a storm is gathering; and as for my brother Auguste, he goes about shaking his head and wringing his hands, his anticipations are of the darkest.

What can one expect when fellows like Voltaire and Rousseau were permitted by their poisonous preaching to corrupt and inflame the imagination of the people?
Both those men's heads should have been cut off the instant they began to write.
"The scribblers are at the root of all the trouble with their pestilent doctrines; but it is too late now, the mischief is done.
If we had a king strong and determined all might yet be well; but Louis is weak in decision, he listens one moment to Mirabeau and the next to the queen, who is more firm and courageous.

And so things drift on from bad to worse, and the Assembly, backed by the turbulent scum of Paris, are masters of the situation." For some time Harry lived a quiet life at the chateau.