Action is consolatory. It is the enemy of thought and the friend of flattering illusions.
Who would care to question the ground of forgiveness or compassion.
Perhaps life is just that... a dream and a fear.
I had no particular desire to enlighten them, but I had some difficulty in restraining myself from laughing in their faces, so full of stupid importance.
God is for men, and religion for women.
Criticism, that fine flower of personal expression in the garden of letters.