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The object of convalescence ought to be to turn our attention to life: at other times, simply to our tasks!
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All modern philosophizing is political, policed by governments, churches, academics, custom, fashion, and human cowardice, all off which limit it to a fake learnedness.
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The value of many men and books rests solely on their faculty for compelling all to seek out the most hidden and intimate things.
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I do not give alms; I am not poor enough for that.
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The most dangerous follower is the one whose defection would destroy the whole party: hence, the best follower.
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My genius is in my nostrils.
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It is possible to imagine a society flushed with such a sense of power that it could afford to let its offenders go unpunished.
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Only the most acute and active animals are capable of boredom.
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Whoever commits to paper what he suffers becomes a melancholy author: but he becomes a serious author when he tells us what he suffered and why he now reposes in joy.
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Here we also see: what this divinity lacks is not only a sense of shame-and there are also other reasons for conjecturing that in several respects all of the gods could learn from us humans. We humans are-more humane.
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Here is a hero who did nothing but shake the tree as soon as the fruit was ripe. Does this seem to be too small a thing to you? Then take a good look at the tree he shook.
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When self control is lacking in small things, the ability to apply it to matters of importance withers away. Every day in which one does not at least deny himself some trifle is badly spent and a threat to the day following.
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So long as the spectator has to figure out the meaning of this or that person, or the presuppositions of this or that conflict of inclinations and purposes, he cannot become completely absorbed in the activities and sufferings of the chief characters or feel breathless pity and fear.
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A life without music is an error.
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Just as bones, tissues, intestines, and blood vessels are enclosed in a skin that makes it possible to bear the sight of a human being, so the agitations and passions of the soul are wrapped up in vanity: it is the soul's skin.
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It is a distinction to have many virtues, but a hard lot.
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When an idea is just rising on the horizon, the soul's temperature with respect to it is usually very cold. Only gradually does the idea develop its warmth, and it is hottest (which is to say, exerting its greatest influence) when belief in the idea is already once again in decline.
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The higher culture an individual attains, the less field there is left for mockery and scorn.
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Life is hard to bear: but do not affect to be so delicate! We are all of us fine sumpter asses and assesses.
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Should not the giver be thankful that the receiver received? Is not giving a need? Is not receiving, mercy?
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They would have to sing better songs for me to learn to have faith in their Redeemer; and his disciples would have to look more redeemed!
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And he who must be a creator in good and evil: verily, he must be an annihilator first and demolish values.
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Have you heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours, ran to the market place, and cried incessantly, I seek God! I seek God! As many of those who do not believe in God were standing around just then, he provoked much laughter... Whither is God, he cried. I shall tell you. We have killed him - you and I. All of us are murderers.... God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.
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One never dives into the water to save a drowning man more eagerly than when there are others present who dare not take the risk.