“The imagination is the spur of delights… all depends upon it, it is the mainspring of everything; now, is it not by means of the imagination one knows joy? Is it not of the imagination that the sharpest pleasures arise?”

Cruelty, very far from being a vice, is the first sentiment Nature injects in us all.

What crimes would have been spared the world, if they had choked the first imbecile who thought of speaking of you.

Your service will be arduous, it will be painful and rigorous, and the slightest delinquencies will be requited immediately with corporal and afflicting punishments.

Religions are the cradles of despotism.

The rivers of blood are flowing beneath our feet… Ive been to hell, young man, youve only read about it.

The reasoning man who scorns the prejudices of simpletons necessarily becomes the enemy of simpletons; he must expect as much, and laugh at the inevitable.

Chimerical and empty being, your name alone has caused more blood to flow on the face of the earth than any political war ever will.

Thread of their days without pity, and in the midst of life, without ever concerning themselves with this fatal moment, living as though they were to exist for ever, they disappear into the obscure cloud of immortality, uncertain of the fate which lies in store for them.

Fear not lest precautions and protective contrivances diminish your pleasure: mystery only adds thereto.

I assumed that everything must yield to me, that the entire universe had to flatter my whims, and that I had the right to satisfy them at will.

Happiness is ideal, it is the work of the imagination.

Is it not of the imagination that the sharpest pleasures arise?

Now I beg of you to tell me whether I must love a human being simply because he exists or resembles me and whether for those reasons alone I must suddenly prefer him to myself?

In an age that is utterly corrupt, the best policy is to do as others do.

There you have Nature, there you have her intentions, there you have her scheme: a perpetual action and reaction, a host of vices, a host of virtues, in one word, a perfect equilibrium resulting from the equality of good and evil on earth.

What do I see there but a frail being forever unable to bring man to heel and force him to bend a knee. This creature, although emanated from him, dominates him, knows how to offend him and thereby merit torments eternally! What a weak fellow, this God!

The plant kingdom covers the entire earth, offering our senses great pleasure and the delights of summer.

And gladly would he learn and gladly teach.

Everything that’s lovely is But a brief, dreamy kind of delight.

Fire delight burning bright, full of beauty glimmering ruby.

Delight in the little things.

My latest found, Heaven’s last, best gift, my ever new delight!

The true delight is in the finding out rather than in the knowing.

Not knowing what he sees, he adores the sight; That false face fools and fuels his delight.