Voltaire

I have been a hundred times upon the point of killing myself, but still I was fond of life. This ridiculous weakness is, perhaps, one of the dangerous principles implanted in our nature. For what can be more absurd than to persist in carrying a burden of which we wish to be eased? to detest, and yet to strive to preserve our existence? In a word, to caress the serpent that devours us, and hug him close to our bosoms till he has gnawed into our hearts?

"Optimism," said Cacambo, "what is that?"

"Alas!" replied Candide, "it is the obstinacy of maintaining that everything is best when it is worst."

Ignorant readers are apt to judge a writer by his reputation. For my part, I read only to please myself. I like nothing but what makes for my purpose.

It is demonstrable," said he, "that things cannot be otherwise than as they are; for as all things have been created for some end, they must necessarily be created for the best end.

but still there must certainly be a pleasure in criticising everything, and in perceiving faults where others think they see beauties.

lost through the injuries of time.

My captain kept me concealed behind him, and with his scymetar cut down every one who opposed him; at length I saw all our Italian women and my mother mangled and torn to pieces by the monsters who were fighting over them. The captives, my companions, the Moors who took us, the soldiers, the sailors, the blacks, the whites, the mulattoes, and lastly, my captain himself, were all slain, and I remained alone, half-dead upon a heap of dead bodies. Similar barbarous scenes were occurring every day over the whole country, which is an extent of three hundred leagues, and yet they never missed the five stated times of prayer decreed by their prophet Mahomet.

There is nothing like seeing the world, that’s certain.”

The Dutch fetishists who converted me tell me every Sunday that the blacks and whites are all children of one father, whom they call Adam. I’m no genealogist; but if what these preachers say is true, we are all second cousins; and you must admit that no one could treat his own relations in a more horrible manner

Were they always thieves, fools, cowards, gluttons, drunkards, misers, calumniators, debauchees, fanatics and hypocrites?” “Do you believe,” said Martin, “that hawks have always eaten pigeons when they could get them?” “Of course,” said Candide. “Well, then,” replied Martin, “if hawks have always had the same nature, why do you suppose that mankind has changed?” “Oh!” said Candide, “there is a great deal of difference; because free will—” And disputing in this manner they arrived at Bordeaux.