There Is A Kind Of

Imperious, Choleric, Irascible, Extreme In Everything, With A Dissolute Imagination The Like Of Which Has Never Been Seen, Atheistic To The Point Of Fanaticism, There You Have Me In A Nutshell, And Kill Me Again Or Take Me As I Am, For I Shall Not Change.

No Kind Of Sensation Is Keener And More Active Than That Of Pain Its Impressions Are Unmistakable.

Every Principle Is A Judgment, Every Judgment The Outcome Of Experience, And Experience Is Only Acquired By The Exercise Of The Senses . . .

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?

Were He Supreme, Were He Mighty, Were He Just, Were He Good, This God You Tell Me About, Would It Be Through Enigmas And Buffooneries He Would Wish To Teach Me To Serve And Know Him?