Candide,

After the earthquake, which had destroyed three-fourths of the city of Lisbon, the sages of that country could think of no means more effectual to preserve the kingdom from utter ruin than to entertain the people with an auto-da-fe, it having been decided by the University of Coimbra, that the burning of a few people alive by a slow fire, and with great ceremony, is an infallible preventive of earthquakes... The same day there was another earthquake, which made most dreadful havoc.

I have been a hundred times upon the point of killing myself, but still I was fond of life. This ridiculous weakness is, perhaps, one of the dangerous principles implanted in our nature. For what can be more absurd than to persist in carrying a burden of which we wish to be eased? to detest, and yet to strive to preserve our existence? In a word, to caress the serpent that devours us, and hug him close to our bosoms till he has gnawed into our hearts?

As soon as our two travelers had taken leave of His Excellency, Candide said to Martin, "Well, I hope you will own that this man is the happiest of all mortals, for he is above everything he possesses.""But do not you see," answered Martin, "that he likewise dislikes everything he possesses? It was an observation of Plato, long since, that those are not the best stomachs that reject, without distinction, all sorts of food.""True," said Candide, "but still there must certainly be a pleasure in criticising everything, and in perceiving faults where others think they see beauties.""That is," replied Martin, "there is a pleasure in having no pleasure."

If this is the best of all possible worlds, what are the others?

Ignorant readers are apt to judge a writer by his reputation. For my part, I read only to please myself. I like nothing but what makes for my purpose.

If we do not meet with agreeable things, we shall at least meet with something new.

It is noble to write as we think; it is the privilege of humanity.

"You must certainly have a vast estate," said Candide to the Turk."I have no more than twenty acres of ground," he replied, "the whole of which I cultivate myself with the help of my children; and our labor keeps off from us three great evils — idleness, vice, and want."

In the neighborhood lived a famous dervish who passed for the best philosopher in Turkey; they went to consult him: Pangloss, who was their spokesman, addressed him thus:"Master, we come to entreat you to tell us why so strange an animal as man has been formed?""Why do you trouble your head about it?" said the dervish; "is it any business of yours?""But, Reverend Father," said Candide, "there is a horrible deal of evil on the earth.""What does it matter," said the dervish, "whether there is evil or good? When His Highness sends a ship to Egypt does he trouble his head whether the rats in the vessel are at their ease or not?""What must then be done?" said Pangloss."Be silent," answered the dervish.

In this country it is found requisite, now and then, to put an admiral to death, in order to encourage the others.

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 expiring upon a heap of dead bodies. Similar barbarous scenes were transacted every day over the whole country, which is of three hundred leagues in extent, and yet they never missed the five stated times of prayer enjoined by their prophet Mahomet.

"Excellently observed," answered Candide; "but let us cultivate our garden."

I am the best man in the world, and yet I have already killed three men, and of these three, two were priests.

"Work then without disputing," said Martin; "it is the only way to render life supportable."

Master Pangloss taught the metaphysico-theologo-cosmolonigology. He could prove admirably that there is no effect without a cause, and in this best of all possible worlds the baron's castle was the most magnificent of all castles, and my lady the best of all possible baronesses."It is demonstrable," said he, "that things cannot be otherwise than they are; for as all things have been created for some end, they must necessarily be created for the best end. Observe, for instance, the nose is formed for spectacles; therefore we wear spectacles. The legs are visibly designed for stockings; accordingly we wear stockings. Stones were made to be hewn and to construct castles; therefore my lord has a magnificent castle; for the greatest baron in the province ought to be the best lodged. Swine were intended to be eaten; therefore we eat pork all year round. And they who assert that everything is right, do not express themselves correctly; they should say that everything is best."

Private misfortunes are public benefits; so that the more private misfortunes there are, the greater is the general good.

Qu’est-ce qu’optimisme? disait Cacambo. — Hélas! dit Candide, c’est la rage de soutenir que tout est bien quand on est mal.

If this is the best of possible worlds, what then are the others?

"You're a bitter man," said Candide. "That's because I've lived," said Martin.

Fools have a habit of believing that everything written by a famous author is admirable. For my part I read only to please myself and like only what suits my taste.

Our labour preserves us from three great evils -- weariness, vice, and want.

"Optimism," said Cacambo, "What is that?" "Alas!" replied Candide, "It is the obstinacy of maintaining that everything is best when it is worst!

Even in those cities which seem to enjoy the blessings of peace, and where the arts florish, the inhabitants are devoured by envy, cares and anxieties, which are greater plagues than any experienced in a town when it is under siege.

Fools admire everything in an author of reputation.

Let us cultivate our garden.

"Let us work without reasoning," said Martin; "it is the only way to make life endurable."

In every province, the chief occupations, in order of importance, are lovemaking, malicious gossip, and talking nonsense.