It is proved...that things cannot be other than they are, for since everything was made for a purpose, it follows that everything is made for the best purpose.

A yawn may not be polite, but at least it is an honest opinion.

I have wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but somehow I am still in love with life. This ridiculous weakness is perhaps one of our more stupid melancholy propensities, for is there anything more stupid than to be eager to go on carrying a burden which one would gladly throw away, to loathe one’s very being and yet to hold it fast, to fondle the snake that devours us until it has eaten our hearts away?

The comfort of the rich depends upon an abundant supply of the poor.

All the known world, excepting only savage nations, is governed by books.

What can I hope when all is right?

I am very fond of truth, but not at all of martyrdom.