The magnitude of a progress is gauged by the greatness of the sacrifice that it requires.

All philosophy is a form of confession.

What do I care about the purring of one who cannot love, like the cat?

To have to fight the instincts - that is the definition of decadence: as long as life is ascending, happiness equals instinct.

The empty, the one, the unmoved, the full, satiation, wanting nothing--that would be my evil: in short, dreamless sleep.

Those who show pity and are always ready to help during times of trouble are seldom the same ones who rejoice in our joy: when others are happy they have nothing to do, they become superfluous and lose their feeling of superiority, and so they easily show their displeasure.

Towards gnats and fleas we should show no pity. We would do right to hang petty thieves, petty calumniators, and slanderers.