Nothing on this earth is worth buying at the price of human blood. - Jean-Jacques Rousseau

Nowadays, when more subtle studies and more refined taste
have reduced the art of pleasing into principles, a vile and
misleading uniformity governs our customs, and all minds seem
to have been cast in the same mould: incessantly politeness
makes demands, propriety issues orders, and incessantly people
follow customary usage, never their own inclinations. One does
not dare to appear as what one is. And in this perpetual
constraint, men who make up this herd we call society, placed in
the same circumstances, will all do the same things, unless more
powerful motives prevent them. Thus, one will never know well
the person one is dealing with.

My birth was my first misfortune.

Everything is good as it comes from the hands of the Maker of the world, but degenerates once it gets into the hands of man