Candide

by Voltaire

“The great man!” said Candide. “He is another Pangloss!” Then, turning towards him, he said: “Sir, you think doubtless that all is for the best in the moral and physical world, and that nothing could be otherwise than it is?” “I, sir!” answered the scholar, “I know nothing of all that; I find that all goes awry with me; that no one knows either what is his rank, nor what is his condition, what he does nor what he ought to do; and that except supper, which is always gay, and where there appears to be enough concord, all the rest of the time is passed in impertinent quarrels; Jansenist against Molinist, Parliament against the Church, men of letters against men of letters, courtesans against courtesans, financiers against the people, wives against husbands, relatives against relatives—it is eternal war.” “I have seen the worst,” Candide replied. “But a wise man, who since has had the misfortune to be hanged, taught me that all is marvellously well; these are but the shadows on a beautiful picture.” “Your hanged man mocked the world,” said Martin. “The shadows are horrible blots.” “They are men who make the blots,” said Candide, “and they cannot be dispensed with.”

Imdont understand it a lot