Man alone suffers so excruciatingly in the world that he was compelled to invent laughter.

Are you visiting women? Do not forget your whip

[Heraclitus had] the highest form of pride [stemming] from a certainty of belief in the truth as grasped by himself alone. He brings this form, by its excessive development, into a sublime pathos by involuntary identification of himself with his truth.

Only the most acute and active animals are capable of boredom.

Assuming that he believes at all, the everyday Christian is a pitiful figure, a man who really cannot count up to three, and who besides, precisely because of his mental incompetence, would not deserve such a punishment as Christianity promises him.

Man wishes woman to be peaceable, but in fact she is essentially warlike, like the cat.

To one who is accustomed to thinking a lot, every new thought that he hears or reads about immediately appears as a link in a chain.