I have not the hope of being immortal, because the desire of it has not given me that vanity.

Only passions, and great passions, can raise the soul to great things. Without them there is no sublimity, either in morals or in creativity. Art returns to infancy, and virtue becomes small-minded.

All things must be examined, debated, investigated without exception and without regard for anyone's feelings... We must run roughshod over all these ancient puerilities, overturn the barriers that reason never erected, give back to the arts and sciences the liberty that is so precious to them.

Superstition is more injurious to God than atheism.

Which is the greater merit, to enlighten the human race, which remains forever, or to save one's fatherland, which is perishable?

I discuss with myself questions of politics, love, taste, or philosophy. I let my mind rove wantonly, give it free rein to followany idea, wise or mad that may present itself. My ideas are my harlots.

A nation which thinks that it is belief in God and not good law which makes people honest does not seem to me very advanced.