Every master has but one disciple, and that one becomes unfaithful to him, for he too is destined for master-ship.

Posthumous men-myself, for example-are not as well understood as timely ones, but we are listened to better. More precisely: we are never understood-hence our authority.

Alas, where is there still a sea in which one could drown: thus our lament resounds – across shallow swamps.

Faith actually moves no mountains, but instead raises them up where there were none before.

We have to be careful that in throwing out the devil, we don't throw out the best part of ourselves.

Good deeds shun the light as anxiously as evil deeds: the latter fear that disclosure will bring on pain (as punishment), while the former fear that disclosure will take away pleasure (that pure pleasure, that pleasure per se, which immediately ceases once the vanity's satisfaction is added).

One has been a poor spectator of life if one has not witnessed the hand - that kills from mercy.