The breath of an aristocrat is the death rattle of freedom.
One must love humanity in order to reach out into the unique essence of each individual: no one can be too low or too ugly.
There are only Epicureans, either crude or refined; Christ was the most refined.
Murder begins where self-defense ends.
Only one thing abides: an infinite beauty that passes from form to form, eternally changed and revealed afresh.
The power of the people and the power of reason are one.