Why Do You Complain Of Your Fate

Cruelty, Very Far From Being A Vice, Is The First Sentiment Nature Injects In Us All. The Infant Breaks His Toy, Bites His Nurse's Breast, Strangles His Canary Long Before He Is Able To Reason; Cruelty Is Stamped In Animals, In Whom, As I Think I Have Said, Nature's Laws Are More Emphatically To Be Read Than In Ourselves; Cruelty Exists Amongst Savages, So Much Nearer To Nature Than Civilized Men Are; Absurd Then To Maintain Cruelty Is A Consequence Of Depravity. . . . Cruelty Is Simply The Energy In A Man Civilization Has Not Yet Altogether Corrupted: Therefore It Is A Virtue, Not A Vice.

My Passions, Concentrated On A Single Point, Resemble The Rays Of A Sun Assembled By A Magnifying Glass: They Immediately Set Fire To Whatever Object They Find In Their Way.

I Am About To Put Foward Some Major Ideas; They Will Be Heard And Pondered. If Not All Of Them Please, Surely A Few Will; In Some Sort, Then, I Shall Have Contributed To The Progress Of Our Age, And Shall Be Content.

The Man Who Alters His Way Of Thinking To Suit Others Is A Fool.

Dread Not Infanticide; The Crime Is Imaginary: We Are Always Mistress Of What We Carry In Our Womb, And We Do No More Harm In Destroying This Kind Of Matter Than In Evacuating Another, By Medicines, When We Feel The Need.