In solitude the lonely man is eaten up by himself, among crowds by the many.

There is an innocence in admiration; it is found in those to whom it has never yet occurred that they, too, might be admired some day.

As much as possible, and this as quickly as possible: that is what the great mental and emotional illness craves that is variously called "present" or "culture," but that is actually a symptom of consumption.

Spiritual strength and passion, when accompanied by bad manners, only provoke loathing.

I have found strength where one does not look for it: in simple, mild, and pleasant people, without the least desire to rule -- and, conversely, the desire to rule has often appeared to me a sign of inward weakness: they fear their own slave soul and shroud it in a royal cloak (in the end, they still become the slaves of their followers, their fame, etc.)

I hate who steals my solitude, without really offer me in exchange company.

People press toward the light not in order to see better but in order to shine better.--We are happy to regard the one before whomwe shine as light.