Optimism Has Always Seemed To Me The

Chantal's Only Ruse ... Was Her Shattering Simplicity. While A Weak Man Or An Imposter Is Always More Complicated Than The Problem He Is Trying To Solve, And Thinking To Encompass His Adversary, Merely Keeps Prowling Interminably Around Himself, The Heroic Nature Will Throw Itself Into The Heart Of The Danger To Turn It To Its Own Use, Just As Captured Artillery Is Turned About And Aimed At The Backs Of The Fleeing Enemy.

A Thought Which Does Not Result In An Action Is Nothing Much, And An Action Which Does Not Proceed From A Thought Is Nothing At All.

Justice In The Hands Of The Powerful Is Merely A Governing System Like Any Other. Why Call It Justice? Let Us Rather Call It Injustice, But Of A Sly Effective Order, Based Entirely On Cruel Knowledge Of The Resistance Of The Weak, Their Capacity For Pain, Humilation And Misery. Injustice Sustained At The Exact Degree Of Necessary Tension To Turn The Cogs Of The Huge Machine-for-the-making-of-rich-men, Without Bursting The Boiler.

Like All Truly Pure Souls She [chantal] Quickly Resigned Herself To Past Faults, Thought Only Of How To Repair Whatever Harm They Had Done. "of All My Daughters, You Are Certainly The Least Bothered By Scruples Of Conscience," Abbé Chevance Used To Say.... Even Sin, Once The Will Is Detached And No Longer Nourishes It, Withers And Dies Sterile. It Is In The Secret Of Intentions, Like In A Decomposing Humus, In The Dark Forest Of Future Sins, Unpardoned Sins, Half Dead, Half Living, That New Poisons Are Distilled.

A Poor Man With Nothing In His Belly Needs Hope, Illusion, More Than Bread.