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What an age experiences as evil is usually an untimely reverberation echoing what was previously experienced as good--the atavismof an older ideal.
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Das Leben als Ertrag des Lebens. - Der Mensch mag sich noch so weit mit seiner Erkenntniss ausrecken, sich selber noch so objectiv vorkommen: zuletzt trägt er doch Nichts davon, als seine eigene Biographie.
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Love is blind, friends close their eyes.
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I should not believe in a God who does not dance.
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[Heraclitus had] a regal air of certainty.
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We must understand how to hide in darkness in order to escape the gnat-swarms of utterly annoying admirers.
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We are, indeed, not among the least contented. You, however, if your belief makes you blessed then appear to be blessed! Your faces have always been more injurious to your belief than our objections have! If these glad tidings of your Bible were written on your faces, you would not need to insist so obstinately on the authority of that book ... As things are, however, all your apologies for Christianity have their roots in your lack of Christianity; with your defense plea you inscribe your own bill of indictment.
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The secret of reaping the greatest fruitfulness and the greatest enjoyment from life is to live dangerously.
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Aphorisms should be peaks - and those who are addressed, tall and lofty. The air thin and pure, danger near, and the spirit full of gay sarcasm: these go well together.
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What really makes one indignant about suffering isn't the thing itself but the senselessness of it.
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Thus do I want man and woman to be: the one fit to wage war and the other fit to give birth, but both fit to dance with head and feet.
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Growth in wisdom can be measured precisely by decline in bile.
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I love those who do not know how to live, except by going under, for they are those who cross over.
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What? A great man? I only ever see the ape of his own ideal.
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Our salvation lies not in knowing, but in creating!
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I no longer want to walk on worn soles.
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And it is the great noon when man stands at the midpoint of his course between beast and superman and celebrates his way to the evening as his highest hope: for it is the way to a new morning.
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Tragedy is dead! Poetry itself died with it! Away, away with you, puny, stunted imitators! Away with you to Hades, and eat your fill of the old masters' crumbs!
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The woman and the genius do not work. Up to now, woman has been mankind's supreme luxury. In all those moments when we do our best, we do not work. Work is merely a means to these moments.
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The creation of freedom for oneself and a sacred "No" even to duty -- for that, my brothers, the lion is needed.
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Thus strength is afforded by good and thorough customs, thus is learnt the subjection of the individual, and strenuousness of character becomes a birth gift and afterwards is fostered as a habit.
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However modest one may be in one's demand for intellectual cleanliness, one cannot help feeling, when coming into contact with the New Testament, a kind of inexpressible discomfiture: for the unchecked impudence with which the least qualified want to raise their voice on the greatest problems, and even claim to be judges of such things, surpasses all measure. The shameless levity with which the most intractable problems (life, world, God, purpose of life) are spoken of, as if they were not problems at all but simply things that these little bigots knew!
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The most unequivocal sign of contempt for man is to regard everybody merely as a means to one's own ends, or of no account whatever.
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The higher culture an individual attains, the less field there is left for mockery and scorn.