Parisians are so besotted, so silly and so naturally inept that a street player, a seller of indulgences, a mule with its cymbals,a fiddler in the middle of a crossroads, will draw more people than would a good Evangelist preacher.

Don't limp in front of the lame.

Hungry bellies have no cars.

Nature abhors a vacuum.

Between two stools one sits on the ground.

Oh thrice and four times happy... those who plant cabbages.

The deed will be accomplished with the least amount of bloodshed possible, and, if possible ..., we'll save all the souls and send them happily off to their abode.