What then in the last resort are the truths of mankind? They are the irrefutable errors of mankind.

Of all that is written, I love only what a person hath written with his blood.

Contentment preserves one from catching cold. Has a woman who knew that she was well dressed ever caught a cold? No, not even when she had scarcely a rag on her back.

Happiness is the feeling that power increases - that resistance is being overcome.

However un-Christian this may sound, I am not even predisposed against myself.

I climb upon the highest mountains, laughing at all tragedies - whether real or imaginary.

And this do I call immaculate perception of all things: to want nothing else from them, but to be allowed to lie before them as a mirror with a hundred facets.