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Without music, life would be a mistake... I would only believe in a God who knew how to dance.
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What is good? All that heightens the feeling of power, the will to power, power itself. What is bad? All that is born of weakness. What is happiness? The feeling that power is growing, that resistance is overcome.
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There is perhaps nothing so admirable in Christianity and Buddhism as their art of teaching even the lowest to elevate themselves by piety to a seemingly higher order of things, and thereby to retain their satisfaction with the actual world in which they find it difficult enough to live - this very difficulty being necessary.
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With one more talent one frequently stands with greater instability than with one less, as a table stands better on three legs than on four.
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Those who create are hard of heart.
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Many deeds are done so as to forget another deed: there are also opiate activities. I exist so that another will be forgotten.
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Physician, help yourself: thus help your patient too. Let this be his best help: that he may behold with his eyes the man who heals himself.
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A friend whose hopes we cannot satisfy is a friend we would rather have as an enemy.
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And as long as you are in any way ashamed before yourself, you do not yet belong with us.
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Assuming that we have trained our imagination to denounce the past, we will not suffer much from unfulfilled wishes.
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Above all, there is no exception to this rule: that the idea of political superiority always resolves itself into the idea of psychological superiority.
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We ought to learn from the kine one thing: ruminating.
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Time flies apace-we would fain believe that everything flies forward with it.
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The living is merely a type of what is dead, and a very rare type.
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If a person wishes to achieve peace of mind and happiness then they should acquire faith, but if they want to be a disciple of truth, which can be "frightening and ugly,” then they need to search.
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Why does man not see things? He is himself standing in the way: he conceals things.
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War has always been the grand sagacity of every spirit which has grown too inward and too profound; its curative power lies even in the wounds one receives.
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In his heart every man knows quite well that, being unique, he will be in the world only once and that no imaginable chance will for a second time gather together into a unity so strangely variegated an assortment as he is: he knows it but hides it like a bad conscience.
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Artists may here have a more subtle scent: they know only too well that it is precisely when they cease to act 'voluntarily' and do everything of necessity that their feeling of freedom, subtlety, fullness of power, creative placing, disposing, shaping reaches its height - in short, that necessity and 'freedom of will' are then one in them.
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This is the fundamental idea of culture, insofar as it sets but one task for each of us: to further the production of the philosopher, of the artist, and of the saint within us and outside us, and thereby to work at the consummation of nature.
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He who knoweth the reader, doeth nothing more for the reader. Another century of readers - and spirit itself will stink.
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I still live, I still think: I still have to live, for I still have to think.
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One repays a teacher badly if one always remains nothing but a pupil.
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I do not know what meaning classical studies could have for our time if they were not untimely-that is to say, acting counter to our time and thereby acting on our time and, let us hope, for the benefit of a time to come.