Religions Are The Cradles Of Despotism.

Beauty Belongs To The Sphere Of The Simple, The Ordinary, Whilst Ugliness Is Something Extraordinary, And There Is No Question But That Every Ardent Imagination Prefers In Lubricity, The Extraordinary To The Commonplace

The Man Who Alters His Way Of Thinking To Suit Others Is A Fool.

The Impossibility Of Outraging Nature Is The Greatest Anguish Man Can Know.

Hope Is The Most Sensitive Part Of A Poor Wretch's Soul; Whoever Raises It Only To Torment Him Is Behaving Like The Executioners In Hell Who, They Say, Incessantly Renew Old Wounds And Concentrate Their Attention On That Area Of It That Is Already Lacerated.

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