A Confession (n.) extorted from children proves nothing: you think you have convinced them when you have only wearied or frightened them.
Confession (n.) is a dare: tell the whole truth of yourself, then challenge anyone to say, "I was better than that man."
A Confession (n.) is not an apology — though no one confessing should be expected to hide the truth when it happens to speak in his favor.
Confession (n.) is false when, like Montaigne's, it owns only the amiable faults — for no human being, however pure, does not hide some odious vice within.
Confession (n.) is a compulsion for some: a continual wish to unbosom himself kept his heart perpetually on his lips.
Confession (n.) promises truth, not justification: the confessor's duty is to tell it faithfully, the reader's to be just.
A Confession (n.) of faults, even imaginary ones, wins a pupil's trust: we all make it a rule never to own the faults we really have.
A Confession (n.) is best obtained unknowingly: the priest listened without reproof, and the youth made his general confession without knowing he was confessing anything.
Confession (n.) is a token of sincerity and acknowledgment of oneself. Sincerity, frankness, and openness as the standards for judging a life.
A Confession (n.) of a temptation can itself be the yielding: if confessing my wish to steal tempted another to be my accomplice, the confession would be the theft begun.
A Confession (n.) is the history of a soul: its aim is to show exactly what one inwardly is and has been, and for that one needs no documents, only to enter one's own heart.