The higher culture an individual attains, the less field there is left for mockery and scorn.

Can an ass be tragic?--To perish under a burden that one can neither bear nor cast off? The case of the philosopher.

Words are but symbols for the relations of things to one another and to us; nowhere do they touch upon absolute truth... Through words and concepts we shall never reach beyond the wall off relations, to some sort of fabulous primal ground of things.

We have no organ at all for knowledge, for truth: we know (or believe or imagine) precisely as much as may be useful in the interest of the human herd, the species: and even what is here called usefulness is in the end only a belief, something imagined and perhaps precisely that most fatal piece of stupidity by which we shall one day perish.

One is fruitful only at the cost of being rich in contradictions.

Show me that you are redeemed, and I will believe in your Redeemer.

And I offer you this parable: Not a few who sought to cast out their devil entered into the swine themselves.