Happiness Is Ideal, It Is The Work

Let Us Give Ourselves Indiscriminately To Everything Our Passions Suggest, And We Will Always Be Happy...conscience Is Not The Voice Of Nature But Only The Voice Of Prejudice.

For Mortal Men There Is But One Hell, And That Is The Folly And Wickedness And Spite Of His Fellows; But Once His Life Is Over, There's An End To It: His Annihilation Is Final And Entire, Of Him Nothing Survives.

Nature Has Endowed Each Of Us With A Capacity For Kindly Feelings: Let Us Not Squander Them On Others.

It Is Always By Way Of Pain One Arrives At Pleasure.

I Don't Know What The Heart Is, Not I: I Only Use The Word To Denote The Mind's Frailties.