1914 will remain the year of the unforgettable “miracle of the Marne.” And yet “God” has done better as concerns miracles: he made the season of the suckers last four years.

Why is it always “Lowlifes who declare war” and never “Cretins who agree to fight it?” And even – why not?- “Lowlifes who agree to fight it?”

Most men prove their love for children by not bringing any to life

In every slave who consents to his servitude is a potential master. He who willingly obeys those stronger than himself is ready to impose his will on those weaker than him.

He says “my wife” and I say “my companion.” there is a world of difference between this absolute possessive and this relative possessive. Oh woman, as long as you consent to being his woman don’t be surprised by anything that happens to you. By doing this you agree to not be an individual, a person, but a thing possessed a piece of property.

And the right to property is defined as the right to use and abuse.

It’s because of prolific brutes who amuse themselves by spitting out life that cannons are needed that spit out death.

Oh proletarian, for so long you have fulfilled your obligations. If only you thought a little about fulfilling your rights.

What determines the “right” of masters is the patience and docility that slaves bring to bearing them.

The boss loves the “good worker;” the leader loves the “good citizen.”

Phyloxera for its part loves the vine.

Take on the good habit of not obeying, or not putting up with leaders, of each being his own master and you won’t be betrayed, sold out, handed over like a herd of beasts.

You are wasting your time wanting to reform the taste of pigs. In a forest where spring strawberries grow, you will never prevent them from preferring acorns that rot on the ground.

He who calls to life a being destined by its heredity to perpetual pain is the worst of criminals.