That roguish and cheerful vice, politeness.

We must beware of one who is in a passion against us as of one who has once sought our life; for the fact that we still live is due to the absence of power to kill, - if looks could kill, we should have been dead long ago.

I love him who is ashamed when the dice fall in his favour, and who then asketh: "Am I a dishonest player?" - for he is willing to succumb.

What, then is truth?... Truths are illusions about which one has forgotten that this is what they are.

Madness is the exception in individuals but the rule in groups.

I believe only in French culture and consider everything in Europe that calls itself 'culture' a misunderstanding, not to speak of German culture.

We would not let ourselves be burned to death for our opinions: we are not sure enough of them for that.