We talk so abstractly about poetry because all of us are usually bad poets.

Words are but symbols for the relations of things to one another and to us; nowhere do they touch upon absolute truth... Through words and concepts we shall never reach beyond the wall off relations, to some sort of fabulous primal ground of things.

The man who does not wish to be one of the mass only needs to cease to be easy on himself.

How far is truth susceptible of embodiment? That is the question, that is the experiment.

And once you are awake, you shall remain awake eternally.

Sins are indispensable to every society organized on an ecclesiastical basis; they are the only reliable weapons of power; the priest lives upon sins; it is necessary to him that there be sinning.

When Zarathustra was alone . . . he said to his heart: "Could it be possible! This old saint in the forest hath not yet heard of it, that God is dead!"