There is no grace in a benefit that sticks to the fingers.
The body is not a permanent dwelling, but a sort of inn which is to be left behind when one perceives that one is a burden to the host.
The language of truth is unvarnished enough.
There is nothing after death, and death itself is nothing.
However wretched a fellow-mortal may be, he is still a member of our common species.
The true felicity of life is to be free from anxieties and pertubations; to understand and do our duties to God and man, and to enjoy the present without any serious dependence on the future.