Bestowing on the Almighty the passions of mortals
Bow to their charlatanism as if it was sublimity
Cannot be expressed, and if expressed, would not be believed
Feeling, however, the want of consolation in their misfortunes
Future effects dreaded from its past enormities
God is only the invention of fear
Gold, changes black to white, guilt to innocence
Hail their sophistry and imposture as inspiration
Invention of new tortures and improved racks
Labour as much as possible in the dark
Misfortunes and proscription would not only inspire courage
My means were the boundaries of my wants
Not suspected of any vices, but all his virtues are negative
Nothing was decided, though nothing was refused
Now that she is old (as is generally the case), turned devotee
Prelate on whom Bonaparte intends to confer the Roman tiara
Saints supplied her with a finger, a toe, or some other parts
Step is but short from superstition to infidelity
Suspicion and tyranny are inseparable companions
Two hundred and twenty thousand prostitute licenses
Usurped the easy direction of ignorance
Would cease to rule the day he became just