The idea of God is the sole wrong for which I cannot forgive mankind.

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

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.

The degradation which characterizes the state into which you plunge him by punishing him pleases, amuses, and delights him. Deep down he enjoys having gone so far as to deserve being treated in such a way.

Humane sentiments are baseless, mad, and improper; they are incredibly feeble; never do they withstand the gainsaying passions, never do they resist bare necessity.

All universal moral principles are idle fancies.

There is no God, Nature sufficeth unto herself; in no wise hath she need of an author.