Cruelty, Very Far From Being A Vice,

Crime Is To The Passions What Nervous Fluid Is To Life: It Sustains Them, It Supplies Their Strength.

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

Your Body Is The Church Where Nature Asks To Be Reverenced.

The Idea Of God Is The Sole Wrong For Which I Cannot Forgive Mankind.

Miserable Creatures, Thrown For A Moment On The Surface Of This Little Pile Of Mud, Is It Decreed That One Half Of The Flock Should Be The Persecutor Of The Other? Is It For You, Mankind, To Pronounce On What Is Good And What Is Evil?