The Essays of Montaigne [599]
They buy a cat in a sack
They can neither lend nor give anything to one another
They do not see my heart, they see but my countenance
They err as much who too much forbear Venus
They gently name them, so they patiently endure them (diseases)
They have heard, they have seen, they have done so and so
They have not one more invention left wherewith to amuse us
They have not the courage to suffer themselves to be corrected
They have yet touched nothing of that which is mine
They juggle and trifle in all their discourses at our expense
They must be very hard to please, if they are not contented
They must become insensible and invisible to satisfy us
They neither instruct us to think well nor to do well
They never loved them till dead
They who would fight custom with grammar are triflers
Thing at which we all aim, even in virtue is pleasure
Things grow familiar to men's minds by being often seen
Things I say are better than those I write
Things often appear greater to us at distance than near at hand
Things seem greater by imagination than they are in effect
Things that engage us elsewhere and separate us from ourselves
Think myself no longer worth my own care
Think of physic as much good or ill as any one would have me
Thinking nothing done, if anything remained to be done
Thinks nothing profitable that is not painful
This decay of nature which renders him useless, burdensome
This plodding occupation of bookes is as painfull as any other
Those immodest and debauched tricks and postures
Those oppressed with sorrow sometimes surprised by a smile
Those which we fear the least are, peradventure, most to be fear
Those who can please and hug themselves in what they do
Those within (marriage) despair of getting out
Thou diest because thou art living
Thou wilt not feel it long if thou feelest it too much
Though I be engaged to one forme, I do not tie the world unto it
Though nobody should read me, have I wasted time
Threats of the day of judgment
Thucydides: which was the better wrestler
Thy own cowardice is the cause, if thou livest in pain
Tis all swine's flesh, varied by sauces
Tis an exact life that maintains itself in due order in private
Tis better to lean towards doubt than assurance—Augustine
Tis evil counsel that will admit no change
Tis far beyond not fearing death to taste and relish it
Tis for youth to subject itself to common opinions
Tis impossible to deal fairly with a fool
Tis in some sort a kind of dying to avoid the pain of living well
Tis more laudable to obey the bad than the good
Tis no matter; it may be of use to some others
Tis not the cause, but their interest, that inflames them
Tis not the number of men, but the number of good men
Tis said of Epimenides, that he always prophesied backward
Tis so I melt and steal away from myself
Tis the sharpnss of our mind that gives the edge to our pains
Tis then no longer correction, but revenge
Tis there she talks plain French
Titillation of ill-natured pleasure in seeing others suffer
Title of barbarism to everything that is not familiar
Titles being so dearly bought
Titles of my chapters do not always comprehend the whole matter
To be a slave, incessantly to be led by the nose by one's self
To be, not to seem
To condemn them as impossible, is by a temerarious presumption
To contemn what we do not comprehend
To die of old age is a death rare, extraordinary, and singular
To do well where there was danger was the proper office
To forbear doing is often as generous as to do
To forbid us anything is to make us have a mind to't
To fret and vex at folly, as I do, is folly itself
To give a currency to his little pittance of learning
To go a mile out of their way to hook in a fine word
To keep me from dying is not in your power
To kill men, a clear and strong light is required
To know by rote, is no knowledge
To make little things appear great was his profession
To make their private advantage at the public expense
To smell, though well, is to stink
To study philosophy is nothing but to prepare