Friedrich Nietzsche Quotes
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The tree that would grow to heaven must send its roots to hell.
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Natural death is independent of all reason and is really an irrational death, in which the pitiable substance of the shell determines how long the kernel is to exist or not; in which, accordingly, the stunted, diseased and dull witted jailer is lord, and indicates the moment at which his distinguished prisoner shall die.
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If you believed more in life you would fling yourself less to the moment.
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An attack on the roots of passion means an attack on the roots of life.
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In the world of high finance the shilling of the idle rich man can buy more than that of the poor, industrious man.
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The concepts "beyond" and "real world" were invented in order to depreciate the only world that exists-in order that no goal, no aim or task might be left for our earthly reality.
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The whole disaster was only made possible by the fact that there already existed in the world a similar megalomania, allied to this one in race, to wit, the Jewish.
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One has attained to mastery when one neither goes wrong nor hesitates in the performance.
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The aphorism in which I am the first master among Germans, are the forms of 'eternity'; my ambition is to say in ten sentences what everyone else says in a book - what everyone else does not say in a book.
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Silence is worse; all truths that are kept silent become poisonous.
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Pain makes hens and poets cackle.
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The man who meets with a failure attributes this failure rather to the ill will of another than to fate.
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Life without music is no life at all.
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He who does not need to lie is proud of not being a liar.
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A book should long for pen, ink, and writing-table: but usually it is pen, ink, and writing-table that long for a book. That is why books are so negligible nowadays.
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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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Folk music is the original melody of man; it is the musical mirror of the world.
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The perfect woman perpetrates literature as she perpetrates a small sin: as an experiment, in passing, glancing around to see whether anybody notices--and to make sure that somebody notices.
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Experience, as a desire for experience, does not come off. We must not study ourselves while having an experience.
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Moderation sees itself as beautiful; it is unaware that in the eye of the immoderate it appears black and sober and consequently ugly-looking.
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One does not know - cannot know - the best that is in one.
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For some natures, changing their opinions is just as much a requirement of cleanliness as changing their clothes: for others, however, it is merely a requirement of vanity.
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One's own self is well hidden from one's own self; of all mines of treasure, one's own is the last to be dug up.
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Is man one of God's blunders? Or is God one of man's blunders?