And it is the great noon when man stands at the midpoint of his course between beast and superman and celebrates his way to the evening as his highest hope: for it is the way to a new morning.

The way to transmute your iron duty into gold in everyone's eyes is this: always deliver more than you promise.

The perfect woman is a higher type of humanity than the perfect man, and also something much rarer. The natural history of animals furnishes grounds in support of this theory.

But this people has deliberately made itself stupid, for nearly a millennium: nowhere have the two great European narcotics, alcohol and Christianity, been abused more dissolutely.

Respectability offends my taste.

I might believe in the Redeemer if his followers looked more redeemed.

They devour each other and cannot even digest themselves.