It is I, the ungodly Zarathustra, who says:Who is more ungodly than I, that I may rejoice in his teaching?

I love him who laboureth and inventeth, that he may build the house for the Superman, and prepare for him earth, animal, and plant: for thus seeketh he his own down-going.

Mankind must work continually to produce individual great human beings - this and nothing else is the task... for the question is this : How can your life, the individual life, retain the highest value, the deepest significance? Only by living for the good of the rarest and most valuable specimens.

Faith, indeed, has up to the present not been able to move real mountains, although I do not know who assumed that it could. But it can put mountains where there are none.

He who knoweth the reader, doeth nothing more for the reader. Another century of readers - and spirit itself will stink.

I love him who wants to create over and beyond himself and thus perishes.

How good music and bad reasons sound when one marches against an enemy.