It is amusing for me to make so many young muses gossip at will: if I have an article printed, these gentlemen immediately fight against me in verse and prose, in the two newspapers. Aren’t they a little confused being twenty to one? Couldn’t you, gentlemen, talk about anything other than me? Where would your mind be without my madness? You only develop it when I excite it. I Am not so uniform; satire, harmony, the triumvirate, all that is madness for some, good for others; but at least it is varied. You would still have cackled about the problem of women’s liberty, if I had given it. […]