He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. Is not life a hundred times too short for us to bore ourselves?

I am one thing, my writings are another.

Life is an instinct for growth, for survival, for the accumulation of forces, for power.

Are you one who looks on? or lends a hand? - or who looks away, sidles off?...Third question for the conscience.

I could only believe in a God who could dance... And now a God dances through me.

Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.

Gradually it has become clear to me what every great philosophy so far has been: namely, the personal confession of its author and a kind of involuntary and unconscious memoir.