The World Is The House Of The

I Feel, I Think, I Judge; Therefore, A Part Of Organized Matter Like Me Is Capable Of Feeling, Thinking, And Judging.

If There Is One Realm In Which It Is Essential To Be Sublime, It Is In Wickedness. You Spit On A Petty Thief, But You Can't Deny A Kind Of Respect For The Great Criminal.

There Comes A Moment During Which Almost Every Girl Or Boy Falls Into Melancholy; They Are Tormented By A Vague Inquietude Which Rests On Everything And Finds Nothing To Calm It. They Seek Solitude; They Weep; The Silence To Be Found In Cloister Attracts Them: The Image Of Peace That Seems To Reign In Religious Houses Seduces Them. They Mistake The First Manifestations Of A Developing Sexual Nature For The Voice Of God Calling Them To Himself; And It Is Precisely When Nature Is Inciting Them That They Embrace A Fashion Of Life Contrary To Nature's Wish.

If Your Little Savage Were Left To Himself And Be Allowed To Retain All His Ignorance, He Would In Time Join The Infant's Reasoning To The Grown Man's Passion, He Would Strangle His Father And Sleep With His Mother.

What A Hell Of An Economic System! Some Are Replete With Everything While Others, Whose Stomachs Are No Less Demanding, Whose Hunger Is Just As Recurrent, Have Nothing To Bite On. The Worst Of It Is The Constrained Posture Need Puts You In. The Needy Man Does Not Walk Like The Rest; He Skips, Slithers, Twists, Crawls.