He who climbeth on the highest mountains, laugheth at all tragic plays and tragic realities.
He who attains his ideal, precisely thereby surpasses it.
Our sense of the tragic waxes and wanes with our sensuality.
Precisely this is godliness--that there are gods, but no God.
Christianity gave Eros poison to drink; he did not die of it, certainly, but degenerated to Vice.
Nothing on earth consumes a man more quickly than the passion of resentment.