My friends, Providence is put to his trumps. A revolution, what does that prove? That God is hard up. He makes a coup d’état because there is a solution of continuity between the present and the future, and because he, God, is unable to join the two ends.

And to see so much discomfort above and below, so much rascality and odiousness and stinginess and distress in the heavens and on earth… to see winter, which is nothing but a rent in the zenith through which the wind blows, to see so many tatters even in the brand new purple of the morning on the tops of the hills, to see the dew drops, those false pearls, to see the frost, that paste, to see humanity torn, and events patched, and so many spots on the sun, and so many holes in the moon, to see such misery everywhere — I suspect that God is not rich.

He keeps up appearances, it is true, but I feel the pinch. We must not judge the gods from appearances. Beneath the gilding of the sky I catch a glimpse of a poor universe, Creation is bankrupt. That is why I am malcontent.