One May Demand Of Me

And His Hands Would Plait The Priest's Entrails, For Want Of A Rope, To Strangle Kings.

I Have Only A Small Flickering Light To Guide Me In The Darkness Of A Thick Forest. Up Comes A Theologian And Blows It Out.

Scepticism Is The First Step Toward Truth.

The World Is The House Of The Strong. I Shall Not Know Until The End What I Have Lost Or Won In This Place, In This Vast Gambling Den Where I Have Spent More Than Sixty Years, Dice Box In Hand, Shaking The Dice.

At An Early Age I Sucked Up The Milk Of Homer, Virgil, Horace, Terence, Anacreon, Plato And Euripides, Diluted With That Of Moses And The Prophets.