Whoever writes in blood and aphorisms wants not to be learned but to be learned by heart.

I feel all those human beings to be pernicious who can no longer oppose what they love: they thereby ruin the best things and people.

To get into just those situations where sham virtues will not suffice, but rather where, as with the ropedancer on his rope, one either falls or stands--or gets down.

The mouth may lie, alright, but the face it makes nonetheless tells the truth.

All rejection and negation indicates a deficiency in fertility: fundamentally, if only we were good plowland we would allow nothing to go unused, and in every thing, event, and person we would welcome manure, rain, or sunshine.

Instruments and playthings are sense and spirit: behind them there is still the Self. The Self seeketh with the eyes of the senses, it hearkeneth also with the ears of the spirit.

What do we have in common with the rosebud, which trembles because a drop of dew lies on its body?