Read from a distant star, the majuscule script of our earthly existence would perhaps lead to the conclusion that the earth was the distinctively ascetic planet, a nook of disgruntled, arrogant creatures filled with a profound disgust with themselves, at the earth, at all life, who inflict as much pain on themselves as they possibly can out of pleasure in inflicting pain which is probably their only pleasure.

But what if pleasure and pain should be so closely connected that he who wants the greatest possible amount of the one must also have the greatest possible amount of the other, that he who wants to experience the "heavenly high jubilation," must also be ready to be "sorrowful unto death"?

The view that honesty is something, and even a virtue, belongs, it is true, to those private opinions which are forbidden in this age of public opinions.

And let that day be lost to us on which we did not dance once! And let that wisdom be false to us that brought no laughter with it!

I looked for great men, but all I found were the apes of their ideals.

Let your love to life be love to your highest hope; and let your highest hope be the highest thought of life!

Animals know nothing of themselves, and they also know nothing of the world.