To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.
Race of Cain, ascend to heaven, And cast God down upon the earth!
It is necessary to work, if not from inclination, at least from despair. Everything considered, work is less boring than amusing oneself.
He possessed the logic of all good intentions and a knowledge of all the tricks of his trade, and yet he never succeeded at anything, because he believed too much in the impossible. Surprising? Why so? He was forever in the act of conceiving it!
Life is a hospital in which every patient is possessed by the desire of changing his bed. One would prefer to suffer near the fire, and another is certain he would get well if he were by the window.
It is regrettable that, among the Rights of Man, the right of contradicting oneself has been forgotten.