Those who are slow to know suppose that slowness is the essence of knowledge.

One who dresses in rags that have been washed clean dresses cleanly to be sure, but raggedly nonetheless.

I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.

Men use a new lesson or experience later on as a ploughshare or perhaps also as a weapon; women at once make it into an ornament.

When death brings at last the desired forgetfulness, it abolishes life and being together, and sets the seal on the knowledge that "being" is merely a continual "has been," a thing that lives by denying and destroying and contradicting itself.

I know no other way to associate with great tasks than as play: as a sign of greatness, this is an essential presupposition.

When you look into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you.