Voltaire

you are now the support, the defender, the hero of the Bulgarians; your fortune is made; you are in the high road to glory."

lost through the injuries of time.

Brighten up — remain my true and only treasure, my all, as I to you.

— as you too love — yet I love you stronger —

Your love made me the happiest and unhappiest at the same time.

At my actual age I should need some continuity, sameness of life — can that exist under our circumstances?

this is the best of all possible worlds, what are the others like? If I had only been whipped, I could have put up with it, as I did among the Bulgarians; but oh my dear Pangloss

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