Memory says, 'I did that.' Pride replies, 'I could not have done that.' Eventually, memory yields.

Under peaceful conditions a warlike man sets upon himself.

There did he sit shrivelled in his chimney corner, fretting on account of his weak legs, world weary, will weary, and one day he suffocated through his excessive pity.

Here the ways of men divide. If you wish to strive for peace of soul and happiness, then believe; if you wish to be a disciple of truth, then inquire.

For it is only as an aesthetic phenomenon that existence and the world are eternally justified.

Everyone needs a sense of shame, but no one needs to feel ashamed.

The will to truth is merely the longing for a stable world.