I am but little disposed to put things in writing. One almost always regrets doing so. - Charles Baudelaire

Ah! miserable dog, if I had offered you a package of excrement, you would have smelled it with delight and perhaps devoured it. In this, poor companion of my sad life, you are like the public, to whom one must never present delicate perfumes, which exasperate them, but only carefully chosen filth.

Evil is committed without effort, naturally, fatally; goodness is always the product of some art.

It is necessary to work, if not from inclination, at least from despair. As it turns out, work is less boring than amusing oneself.