Thus I, who speak to you, and love you more tenderly than brother, father, or all the world--" "Except your Raoul ?" "I shall love Raoul still better when he shall be a man, and I shall have seen him develop himself in all the phases of his character and his actions--as I have seen you, my friend." "You said, then, that you had an order likewise, and that you would not communicate it to me." "Yes, my dear D'Artagnan." The Gascon sighed.

"There was a time," said he, "when you would have placed that order open upon the table, saying, 'D'Artagnan, read this scrawl to Porthos, Aramis, and to me.'" "That is true.

Oh! that was the time of youth, confidence, the generous season when the blood commands, when it is warmed by feeling!" "Well! Athos, will you allow me to tell you ?" "Speak, my friend!" "That delightful time, that generous season, that ruling by warm blood, were all very fine things, no doubt: but I do not regret them at all.
It is absolutely like the period of studies.

I have constantly met with fools who would boast of the days of pensums, ferules, and crusts of dry bread.

It is singular, but I never loved all that; for my part, however active and sober I might be (you know if I was so, Athos), however simple I might appear in my clothes, I would not the less have preferred the braveries and embroideries of Porthos to my little perforated cassock, which gave passage to the wind in winter and the sun in summer.
I should always, my friend, mistrust him who would pretend to prefer evil to good.