The More Defects A Man May Have,

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.

Is It Not Of The Imagination That The Sharpest Pleasures Arise?

In Order To Know Virtue, We Must First Acquaint Ourselves With Vice.

The Pleasure Of The Senses Is Always Regulated In Accordance With The Imagination. Man Can Aspire To Felicity Only By Serving All The Whims Of His Imagination.

If Nature Denies Eternity To Beings, It Follows That Their Destruction Is One Of Her Laws. Now, Once We Observe That Destruction Is So Useful To Her That She Absolutely Cannot Dispense With It From This Moment Onward The Idea Of Annihilation Which We Attach To Death Ceases To Be Real What We Call The End Of The Living Animal Is No Longer A True Finish, But A Simple Transformation, A Transmutation Of Matter. According To These Irrefutable Principles, Death Is Hence No More Than A Change Of Form, An Imperceptible Passage From One Existence Into Another.