One Is Never So Dangerous

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.

The Primary And Most Beautiful Of Nature's Qualities Is Motion, Which Agitates Her At All Times, But This Motion Is Simply A Perpetual Consequence Of Crimes, She Conserves It By Means Of Crimes Only.

The More Defects A Man May Have, The Older He Is, The Less Lovable, The More Resounding His Success.

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?

For Mortal Men There Is But One Hell, And That Is The Folly And Wickedness And Spite Of His Fellows; But Once His Life Is Over, There's An End To It: His Annihilation Is Final And Entire, Of Him Nothing Survives.