Few serve truth in truth because only few have the pure will to be just, and of those again very few have the strength to be just.

From passions grow opinions; intellectual laziness lets these harden into convictions.

This crown to crown the laughing man, this rose-wreath crown: I myself have set this crown upon my head, I myself have pronounced my laughter holy.

Why couldn't the world that concerns us- be a fiction? And if somebody asked, 'but to be a fiction there surely belongs an author?'- couldn't one answer simply: 'Why? Doesn't this "belongs" perhaps belong to the fiction, too?'

Against boredom even gods struggle in vain.

We hear only those questions for which we are in a position to find answers.

Some people appear to be more meager in talent than they are, just because the tasks they set themselves are always too great.