Art is not merely an imitation of the reality of nature, but in truth a metaphysical supplement to the reality of nature, placed alongside thereof for its conquest.

That lies should be necessary to life is part and parcel of the terrible and questionable character of existence.

In true love it is the soul that envelops the body.

O my brothers, am I then cruel? But I say: that which is falling should also be pushed!

The disgust with dirt can be so great that it keeps us from cleaning ourselves--from "justifying" ourselves.

We operate with nothing but things which do not exist, with lines, planes, bodies, atoms, divisible time, divisible space - how should explanation even be possible when we first make everything into an image, into our own image!

Lightning and thunder need time, the light of the stars needs time, deeds need time, even after they are done, to be seen and heard.