What we are doing here is only the image of what we would like to do.

Let us give ourselves indiscriminately to everything our passions suggest, and we will always be happy...Conscience is not the voice of Nature but only the voice of prejudice.

It is always by way of pain one arrives at pleasure.

I've already told you: the only way to a woman's heart is along the path of torment. I know none other as sure.

Your body is the church where Nature asks to be reverenced.

Conversation, like certain portions of the anatomy, always runs more smoothly when lubricated.

In order to know virtue, we must first acquaint ourselves with vice.

My passions, concentrated on a single point, resemble the rays of a sun assembled by a magnifying glass: they immediately set fire to whatever object they find in their way.

Crime is the soul of lust. What would pleasure be if it were not accompanied by crime? It is not the object of debauchery that excites us, rather the idea of evil.

Either kill me or take me as I am, because I'll be damned if I ever change.

One must do violence to the object of one's desire; when it surrenders, the pleasure is greater.

At last, you will not be remembered for roaming the earth as a non-entity, but by every word, and every miracle, and every love, and every seed that ever came from the innermost part of your heart.

If we subject religious claims to a lesser degree of scrutiny, we should not be surprised if religious people subject us to a greater degree of servitude.

If the only prayer you say in your whole life is "Thank you " that would suffice.

Mud can make you prisoner and the plains can make you dry. Snow can burn your eyes but only people make you cry.

Anything you make in a 'normal' sized loaf pan can be made in the longer pan - you just have to increase the recipe proportionately.

At sixteen, the adolescent knows about suffering because he himself has suffered, but he barely knows that other beings also suffer.

If you think you can experience the power of the Internet on a 1-inch screen, you've got to be out of your mind.

To destroy guide-boards that point in the wrong direction . . . to drive the fiend of fear from the mind . . . is the task of the Freethinker.

Using the stratagem of defining character by what changes and what remains the same, the one constant always seems to be regret. We are defined by the objects of our regret.