I love him who scattereth golden words in advance of his deeds, and always doeth more than he promiseth: for he seeketh his own down-going.

Knowledge kills action; action requires the veils of illusion.

The real question is: How much truth can I stand?

He who lives as children live - who does not struggle for his bread and does not believe that his actions possess any ultimate significance - remains childlike.

To escape boredom, man works either beyond what his usual needs require, or else he invents play, that is, work that is designed to quiet no need other than that for working in general.

Free from what? What does that matter to Zarathustra! Clearly, however, shall your eye show to me: free for what?

The familiarity of superiors embitters one, because it may not be returned.