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On the heights it is warmer than people in the valleys suppose, especially in winter. The thinker recognizes the full import of this simile.
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Anyone who has looked deeply into the world may guess how much wisdom lies in the superficiality of men. The instinct that preserves them teaches them to be flighty light, and false.
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Wie finden wir uns selbst wieder? Wie kann sich der Mensch kennen? Er ist eine dunkle und verhüllte Sache; und wenn der Hase sieben Häute hat, so kann der Mensch sich sieben mal siebzig abziehn und wird noch nicht sagen können: »das bist du nun wirklich, das ist nicht mehr Schale«.
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He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. Is not life a hundred times too short for us to bore ourselves?
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And so, onwards... along a path of wisdom, with a hearty tread, a hearty confidence.. however you may be, be your own source of experience. Throw off your discontent about your nature. Forgive yourself your own self. You have it in your power to merge everything you have lived through- false starts, errors, delusions, passions, your loves and your hopes- into your goal, with nothing left over.
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God remains dead. And we have killed him. Yet his shadow still looms. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?
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The spiritual activity of millennia is deposited in language.
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What I understand by "philosopher": a terrible explosive in the presence of which everything is in danger.
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Learning from one's enemies is the best way to love them, for it puts one into a grateful mood toward them.
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Those things for which we find words, are things we have already overcome.
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Indeed, what forces us at all to suppose that there is an essential opposition of 'true' and 'false'? Is it not sufficient to assume degrees of apparentness and, as it were, lighter and darker shadows and shades of appearance- different 'values', to use the language of painters?
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It is not things, but opinions about things that have absolutely no existence, which have so deranged mankind!
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Our vanity is hardest to wound precisely when our pride has just been wounded.
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The child as a monument to the passion of two people; the will to oneness in two.
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Stupidity in a woman is unfeminine.
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The last Christian died on a cross.
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From which stars have we fallen to meet each other here?
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The worst readers are those who behave like plundering troops: they take away a few things they can use, dirty and confound the remainder, and revile the whole.
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I have exposed myself and am not ashamed to stand there naked. "Shame" is what we call the monster that attached itself to men when they aspired beyond the animals.
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Whoever, at any time, has undertaken to build a new heaven has found the strength for it in his own hell.
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We have art so that we shall not die of reality.
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Whatever may be your desire to accomplish great deeds, the deep silence of pregnancy never comes to you! The event of the day sweeps you along like straws before the wind whilst ye lie under the illusion that ye are chasing the event,-poor fellows! If a man wishes to act the hero on the stage he must not think of forming part of the chorus; he should not even know how the chorus is made up.
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There is not sufficient religion in the world merely to put an end to the number of religions.
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It is terrible to die of thirst in the ocean. Do you have to salt your truth so heavily that it does not even-quench thirst any more?