I did not give it two thoughts.

I set out full of confidence in his goodness.

I thought that he would see me, that I should throw myself into his arms, that we should both of us shed tears, and that all would be forgotten.

I thought rightly."[7] We may be sure of a stoutness of native stuff in any stock where so much tenacity united with such fine confidence on one side, and such generous love on the other.

It is a commonplace how much waste would be avoided in human life if men would more freely allow their vision to pierce in this way through the distorting veils of egoism, to the reality of sentiment and motive and relationship.
Throughout his life Diderot was blessed with that divine gift of pity, which one that has it could hardly be willing to barter for the understanding of an Aristotle.