Happiness is an abstraction, it is a product of the imagination, it is a way of being moved, which depends entirely on our way of seeing and feeling.

Are your convictions so fragile that mine cannot stand in opposition to them? Is your God so illusory that the presence of my Devil reveals his insufficiency?

Fear not lest precautions and protective contrivances diminish your pleasure: mystery only adds thereto.

Are not laws dangerous which inhibit the passions? Compare the centuries of anarchy with those of the strongest legalism in any country you like and you will see that it is only when the laws are silent that the greatest actions appear.

One must do violence to the object of one's desire; when it surrenders, the pleasure is greater.

Any enjoyment is weakened when shared.

God strung up his own son like a side of veal. I shudder to think what he would do to me.