The Plague Of Man Is Boasting Of

I Don't Break The Law* Made For Crooks, When I Take Away My Own Property - Thus I Am Not Obliged To Conform To The Law Made For Murderers When I Deprive Myself Of My Own Life.

How Many Quarrels, And How Important, Has The Doubt As To The Meaning Of This Syllable "hoc" Produced For The World!

We Feel A Kind Of Bittersweet Pricking Of Malicious Delight In Contemplating The Misfortunes Of Others.

Who Does Not See That I Have Taken A Road Along Which I Shall Go, Without Stopping And Without Effort, As Long As There Is Ink And Paper In The World? I Cannot Keep A Record Of My Life By My Actions; Fortune Places Them Too Low. I Keep It By My Thoughts.

It Is Only Certain That There Is Nothing Certain, And That Nothing Is More Miserable Or More Proud Than Man.