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by Voltaire

p.19 On her way back to the castle she met Candide. She blushed, and so did he. She greeted him in a faltering voice, and he spoke to her without knowing what he was saying. The next day, as they were leaving the table after dinner, Cunegonde and Candide found themselves behind a screen. She dropped her handkerchief, he picked it up; she innocently took his hand, and he innocently kissed hers with extraordinary animation, ardor, and grace; their lips met, their eyes flashed, their knees trembled, their hands wandered. Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh happened to pass by the screen; seeing this cause and effect, he drove Candide from the castle with various kicks in the backside. Cunegonde fainted. The baroness slapped her as soon as she revived, and consternation reigned in the most beautiful and agreeable of all possible castles.

p.73 "I'm waiting for my master, Munheer Vanderdendur the famous merchant," replied the Negro.
    "Was it Mynheer Vanderdendur who put you in that condition?" asked Candide.
    "Yes, sir," said the Negro, "it's the custom. We're given a pair of short trousers twice a year as our only clothing. If we get a finger caught under the millstone while we're working in the sugar mills, they cut off the whole hand; and if we try to run away, they cut off one of their legs. I've been in both these situations. That's the price of the sugar you eat in Europe. However when my mother sold me on the Guinea coast for ten patagons, she said to me, 'My dear child, always glorify and worship our fetishes, they'll make you live happily. You now have the honor of being a lave of our lords the white men, and in acquriring that honor you've made your parents' fortune.' I may have made their fortune, but they didn't make mine. Dogs, monkeys and parrots are a thousand times less miserable than we are. The Dutch fetishes, who converted me, tell me every Sunday that we're all children of Adam, black and white alike. I'm no genealogist, but if those preachers are telling the truth, we're all cousins, and you must admit that no one could treat his relatives more horribly."

p.73 "What's optimism?" asked Cacambo.
    "Alas," said Candide, "it's a mania for insisting that everything is all right when everything is going wrong."

p.81 "Do you believe," said Candide, "that men have always slaughtered each other as they do today, that they've always been liars, cheats, traitors, ingrates and theives, weak, fickle, cowardly, envious, greedy, drunkenly, miserly, ambitious, bloodthirsty, slanderous, lecherous, fanatical, hypocritical and foolish?"
    "Do you believe," said Martin, "if hawks have always had the same character, what makes you think men may have changed theirs?"
    "Yes, of course," said Candide.

p.84 He hates anyone who succeeds, just as eunuchs hate anyone who makes love.