death. What a fine
dream! After my death it will be a very clever person who can catch me.
Have a handful of dust seized by a shadow-hand, if you can. Let us tell
the truth, we who are initiated, and who have raised the veil of Isis:
there is no such thing as either good or evil; there is vegetation.
Let us seek the real. Let us get to the bottom of it. Let us go into it
thoroughly. What the deuce! let us go to the bottom of it! We must scent
out the truth; dig in the earth for it, and seize it. Then it gives you
exquisite joys. Then you grow strong, and you laugh. I am square on the
bottom, I am. Immortality, Bishop, is a chance, a waiting for dead men's
shoes. Ah! what a charming promise! trust to it, if you like! What a
fine lot Adam has! We are souls, and we shall be angels, with blue wings
on our shoulder-blades. Do come to my assistance: is it not Tertullian
who says that the blessed shall travel from star to star? Very well. We
shall be the grasshoppers of the stars. And then, besides, we shall
see God. Ta, ta, ta! What twaddle all these paradises are! God is a
nonsensical monster. I would not say that in the Moniteur, egad! but I
may whisper it among friends. Inter pocula. To sacrifice the world to
paradise is to let slip the prey for the shadow. Be the dupe of the
infinite! I'm not such a fool. I am a nought. I call myself Monsieur le
Comte Nought, senator. Did I exist before my birth? No. Shall I exist
after death? No. What am I? A little dust collected in an organism. What
am I to do on this earth? The choice rests with me: suffer or enjoy.
Whither will suffering lead me? To nothingness; but I shall have
suffered. Whither will enjoyment lead me? To nothingness; but I shall
have enjoyed myself. My choice is made. One must eat or be eaten. I
shall eat. It is better to be the tooth than the grass. Such is my
wisdom. After which, go whither I push thee, the grave-digger is there;
the Pantheon for some of us: all falls into the great hole. End. Finis.
Total liquidation. This is the vanishing-point. Death is death, believe
me. I laugh at the idea of there being any one who has anything to tell
me on that subject. Fables of nurses; bugaboo for children; Jehovah for
men. No; our to-morrow is the night. Beyond the tomb there is nothing
but equal nothingness. You have been Sardanapalus, you have been Vincent
de Paul--it makes no difference. That is the truth. Then live your life,
above all things. Make use of your _I_ w