I am no man, I am dynamite.

Where is the lightning to lick you with its tongue? Where is the madness with which you should be cleansed? Behold, I show you the Superman. He is this lightning, he is this madness.

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.

One does well to put on gloves when reading the New Testament. The proximity of so much uncleanliness almost forces one to do this.

Just as a waterfall grows slower and more lightly suspended as it plunges down, so the great man of action tends to act with greater calmness than his tempestuous desires prior to the deed would lead one to expect.

One does not want to be deceived, under the supposition that it is injurious, dangerous, or fatal to be deceived.

Almost two thousand years, and no new god!