I assumed that everything must yield to me, that the entire universe had to flatter my whims, and that I had the right to satisfy them at will.

What we are doing here is only the image of what we would like to do.

Chimerical and empty being, your name alone has caused more blood to flow on the face of the earth than any political war ever will. Return to the nothingness from which the mad hope and ridiculous fright of men dared call you forth to their misfortune. You only appeared as a torment for the human race. What crimes would have been spared the world, if they had choked the first imbecile who thought of speaking of you.

What I should like to find is a crime the effects of which would be perpetual, even when I myself do not act, so that there would not be a single moment of my life even when I were asleep, when I was not the cause of some chaos, a chaos of such proportions that it would provoke a general corruption or a distubance so formal that even after my death its effects would still be felt.

What is more immoral than war?

Happiness lies only in that which excites, and the only thing that excites is crime.

Sensual excess drives out pity in man.