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Success has always been the greatest liar - and the "work" itself is a success; the great statesman, the conqueror, the discoverer is disguised by his creations, often beyond recognition; the "work," whether of the artist or the philosopher, invents the man who has created it, who is supposed to have create it; "great men," as they are venerated, are subsequent pieces of wretched minor fiction.
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I love him who chasteneth his God, because he loveth his God: for he must succumb through the wrath of his God.
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The visionary lies to himself, the liar only to others.
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Everything good is the transmutation of something evil: every god has a devil for a father.
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The 'kingdom of Heaven' is a condition of the heart - not something that comes 'upon the earth' or 'after death.'
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The Hour-Hand of Life --- Life consists of rare, isolated moments of the greatest significance, and of innumerably many intervals, during which at best the silhouettes of those moments hover about us. Love, springtime, every beautiful melody, mountains, the moon, the sea - all these speak completely to the heart but once, if in fact they ever do get a chance to speak completely. For many men do not have those moments at all, and are themselves intervals and intermissions in the symphony of real life.
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In the stream.- Mighty waters draw much stone and rubble along with them; mighty spirits many stupid and bewildered heads.
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Those who know that they are profound strive for clarity. Those who would like to seem profound to the crowd strive for obscurity. For the crowd believes that if it cannot see to the bottom of something it must be profound. It is so timid and dislikes going into the water.
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We take a fancy to something: and scarcely have we thoroughly taken a fancy to it when that tyrant in us calls out: "Give me thatin sacrifice"--and we give it.
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If there is something to pardon in everything, there is also something to condemn.
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Our vanity desires that what we do best should be considered what is hardest for us.
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There's no defense against stupidity.
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Noble and wise men once believed in the music of the spheres: noble and wise men still continue to believe in the "moral significance of existence." But one day even this sphere-music will no longer be audible to them! They will wake up and take note that their ears were dreaming.
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The Refinement of Shame. People are not ashamed to think something foul, but they are ashamed when they think these foul thoughts are attributed to them.
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Truths are illusions of which one has forgotten that they are illusions, metaphors that have become worn-out and deprived of their sensuous force, coins that have lost their imprint and are now no longer seen as coins but as metal.
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What is not intelligible to me is not necessarily unintelligent.
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Sensuality often hastens the "Growth of Love" so much that the roots remain weak and are easily torn up.
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In music the passions enjoy themselves.
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Beware of spitting against the wind!
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Only individuals have a sense of responsibility.
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Your god is dead and only the ignorant weep. And if you claim there is a hell, then we shall meet there!
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The hardest thing of all is to find a black cat in a dark room, especially if there is no cat.
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Man must become better and more evil.
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One should part from life as Odysseus parted from Nausicaa-blessing it rather than in love with it.