A strong and well-constituted man digests his experiences (deeds and misdeeds all included) just as he digests his meats, even when he has some tough morsels to swallow.

Animals know nothing of themselves, and they also know nothing of the world.

Is man merely a mistake of God's? Or God merely a mistake of man?

I fear that, with our current veneration for the natural and the real, we have arrived at the opposite pole to all idealism, and have landed in the region of the waxworks.

Wherever on earth the religious neurosis has appeared we find it tied to three dangerous dietary demands: solitude, fasting, and sexual abstinence.

Strength is the morality of the man who stands out from the rest, and it is mine.

There is no more dreary or more repulsive creature than the man who has evaded his genius.