Whoever despises himself still esteems the despiser within himself.

And it is the great noon when man stands at the midpoint of his course between beast and superman and celebrates his way to the evening as his highest hope: for it is the way to a new morning.

A woman's pity, which is talkative, carries the sick person's bed to the public marketplace.

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.

Whoever has really sacrificed anything, knows that he wanted and got something in return.

I am Zarathustra the Godless: where shall I find my equal? All those who give themselves their own will and renounce all submission, they are my equals.

All philosophy is a form of confession.