Monsieur l'abbé, I detest what you write, but I would give my life to make it possible for you to continue to write.

Custom, law bent my first years to the religion of the happy Muslims. I see it too clearly: the care taken of our childhood forms our feelings, our habits, our belief. By the Ganges I would have been a slave of the false gods, a Christian in Paris, a Muslim here.

The Pope is an idol whose hands are tied and whose feet are kissed.

We have a natural right to make use of our pens as of our tongue, at our peril, risk and hazard.

We are all guilty of the good we did not do

The fate of a nation has often depended upon the good or bad digestion of a prime minister.

History is a pack of lies we play on the dead.