I wasn’t raised, I was built.
Farewell, my children, forever. I go to your Father.
No, do not love me, it is better to give me death!
Tribulation first makes one realize what one is.
I had friends. The idea of being forever separated from them and from all their troubles is one of the greatest sorrows that I suffer in dying. Let them at least know that to my latest moment I thought of them.
I trust we shall never be reduced to the painful extremity of seeking the aid of Mirabeau.