One pays dearly for being immortal: one must die many times during his life.

We become aware, however, that all customs, even the hardest, grow pleasanter and milder with time, and that the severest way of life may become a habit and therefore a pleasure.

The will to truth is merely the longing for a stable world.

God remains dead. And we have killed him. Yet his shadow still looms. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?

There is always some madness in love.

The grand style follows suit with all great passion. It disdains to please, it forgets to persuade. It commands. It wills.

The Devil has the broadest perspectives for God; therefore, he keeps so far away from God -- the Devil being the most ancient friend of wisdom