The noble man honours in himself the powerful one, him also who has power over himself, who knows how to speak and how to keep silence, who takes pleasure in subjecting himself to severity and hardness, and has reverence for all that is severe and hard.

No power can be maintained when it is only represented by hypocrites.

Not with wrath do we kill, but with laughter. Come, let us kill the spirit of gravity!

Blessed are the forgetful: for they get the better even of their blunders.

It says nothing against the ripeness of a spirit that it has a few worms.

Without myth, however, every culture loses its healthy creative natural power: it is only a horizon encompassed with myth that rounds off to unity a social movement.

If there is to be art, if there is to be any aesthetic doing and seeing, one physiological condition is indispensable: frenzy.