One Weeps Not Save When One Is

Why Do You Complain Of Your Fate When You Could So Easily Change It?

Let Us Give Ourselves Indiscriminately To Everything Our Passions Suggest, And We Will Always Be Happy...conscience Is Not The Voice Of Nature But Only The Voice Of Prejudice.

Thread Of Their Days Without Pity, And In The Midst Of Life, Without Ever Concerning Themselves With This Fatal Moment, Living As Though They Were To Exist For Ever, They Disappear Into The Obscure Cloud Of Immortality, Uncertain Of The Fate Which Lies In Store For Them.

Cruelty, Very Far From Being A Vice, Is The First Sentiment Nature Injects In Us All. The Infant Breaks His Toy, Bites His Nurse's Breast, Strangles His Canary Long Before He Is Able To Reason; Cruelty Is Stamped In Animals, In Whom, As I Think I Have Said, Nature's Laws Are More Emphatically To Be Read Than In Ourselves; Cruelty Exists Amongst Savages, So Much Nearer To Nature Than Civilized Men Are; Absurd Then To Maintain Cruelty Is A Consequence Of Depravity. . . . Cruelty Is Simply The Energy In A Man Civilization Has Not Yet Altogether Corrupted: Therefore It Is A Virtue, Not A Vice.

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