Where does one not find that bland degeneration which beer produces in the spirit!

An important species of pleasure, and therewith the source of morality, arises out of habit.

Ten truths must you find during the day; otherwise will you seek truth during the night, and your soul will have been hungry.

Could truth perhaps be a woman who has reasons for not permitting her reasons to be seen? Could her name perhaps be--to speak Greek--Baubo?... Oh, those Greeks! They understood how to live: to do that it is necessary to stop bravely at the surface, the fold, the skin, to adore the appearance, to believe in forms, in tones, in words, in the whole Olympus of appearance! Those Greeks were superficial--out of profundity!

We have art in order not to die of the truth.

Memory says, 'I did that.' Pride replies, 'I could not have done that.' Eventually, memory yields.

Too long, the earth has been a madhouse!