Our own peculiar human condition is that we are as fit to be laughed at as able to laugh.
The smallest annoyances, disturb us the most.
The most regular and most perfect soul in the world has but too much to do to keep itself upright from being overthrown by its own weakness.
The public weal requires that men should betray, and lie, and massacre.
We cannot fail in following nature.
To die is not to play a part in society; it is the act of a single person. Let us live and laugh among our friends; let us die and sulk among strangers.