Those born to wealth, and who have the means of gratifying every wish, know not what is the real happiness of life, just as those who have been tossed on the stormy waters of the ocean on a few frail planks can alone realize the blessings of fair weather.
No one is born evil, just like no one is born alone. They become that way, through choice and circumstance.
No one is born a monster. But I wish some people were. It would make it easier to hate them, to kill them, to forget their dead faces.
We are born with faculties and powers capable almost of any thing, such at least as would carry us farther than can easily be imagined: but it is only the exercise of those powers, which gives us ability and skill in any thing, and leads us towards perfection.
They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it’s night once more.[Elles accouchent à cheval sur une tombe, le jour brille un instant, puis c’est la nuit à nouveau.]