Are Wars Anything But The Means Whereby

One Must Do Violence To The Object Of One's Desire; When It Surrenders, The Pleasure Is Greater.

I Have Supported My Deviations With Reasons; I Did Not Stop At Mere Doubt; I Have Vanquished, I Have Uprooted, I Have Destroyed Everything In My Heart That Might Have Interfered With My Pleasure.

It Requires Only Two Things To Win Credit For A Miracle: A Mountebank And A Number Of Silly Women.

Wolves Which Batten Upon Lambs, Lambs Consumed By Wolves, The Strong Who Immolate The Weak, The Weak Victims Of The Strong: There You Have Nature, There You Have Her Intentions, There You Have Her Scheme: A Perpetual Action And Reaction, A Host Of Vices, A Host Of Virtues, In One Word, A Perfect Equilibrium Resulting From The Equality Of Good And Evil On Earth.

All, All Is Theft, All Is Unceasing And Rigorous Competition In Nature; The Desire To Make Off With The Substance Of Others Is The Foremost - The Most Legitimate - Passion Nature Has Bred Into Us And, Without Doubt, The Most Agreeable One.