Lightning seems a thought, which instead of being attached to a brain, is attached to an electric current.

It is in the name of Jesus, himself become God, that fanaticism ignominiously condemned to the stake men like Giodano Bruno, Vanini, Étienne Dolet, John Huss, Savanarola, and numerous other heroic victims; that the Inquisition ordered Galileo to belie his conscience; that thousands and thousands of unfortunates accused of witchcraft were burnt alive in popular ceremonies; it was with the express benediction of Pope Gregory XIII that the butchery of St. Bartholomew drenched Paris in blood.

Lightning is like an elementary spirit, eccentric or rational, clever or silly, passing from one extreme to the other.

May we attribute to the color of the herbage and plants, which no doubt clothe the plains of Mars, the characteristic hue of that planet, which is noticeable by the naked eye, and which led the ancients to personify it as a warrior?

The present inhabitation of Mars be a race superior to ours is very probable.

Men have had the vanity to pretend that the whole creation was made for them, while in reality the whole creation does not suspect their existence.

If the existence of human beings leads to nothing, what is all this comedy about?