one does not only wish to be understood when one writes; one wishes just as surely not to be understood.

One who has given up any hope of winning a fight or has clearly lost it wants his style in fighting to be admired all the more.

The mother of excess is not joy but joylessness.

It is only when we have ceased to be the followers of our followers that we comprehend how meaningless followers are.

In morality, man treats himself not as individuum but as dividuum.

There is a stupid humility that is quite common and when a person is afflicted with it, he is once and for all disqualified for being a disciple of knowledge.

I have forgotten my umbrella.