Evil is easy, and has infinite forms.

As men are not able to fight against death, misery, ignorance, they have taken it into their heads, in order to be happy, not to think of them at all.

All the maxims have been written. It only remains to put them into practice.

If a soldier or labourer complain of the hardship of his lot, set him to do nothing.

Even those who write against fame wish for the fame of having written well, and those who read their works desire the fame of having read them.

If our condition were truly happy, we would not need diversion from thinking of it in order to make ourselves happy.

The more I see of Mankind, the more I prefer my dog.