I can still stand on life's narrowest footing: but who would I be were I to show you this art. Would you like to see a ropedancer?

One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.

Every talent must unfold itself in fighting.

Man, full of emptiness and torn apart with homesickness for the desert has had to create from within himself an adventure, a torture-chamber, an unsafe and hazardous wilderness- this fool, this prisoner consumed with longing and despair, became the inventor of 'bad conscience'.

Warfare is the father of all good things, it is also the father of good prose!

What makes us heroic?--Confronting simultaneously our supreme suffering and our supreme hope.

Every man who has declared that some other man is an ass or a scoundrel, gets angry when the other man conclusively shows that the assertion was erroneous.