Whoever has not two-thirds of his time to himself, is a slave.

And if a friend does you wrong, then say: "I forgive you what you have done to me; that you have done it to YOURSELF, however--how could I forgive that!

By losing your goal, You have lost your way.

I have not the capability to give you my loyalty, nor do I have the vanity to appear as if I did.

What then is truth? A movable host of metaphors, metonymies, and anthropomorphisms: in short, a sum of human relations which have been poetically and rhetorically intensified, transferred, and embellished, and which, after long usage, seem to a people to be fixed, canonical, and binding. Truths are illusions which we have forgotten are illusions — they are metaphors that have become worn out and have been drained of sensuous force.

And like a wind shall I one day blow amongst them and with my spirit take away their soul's breath: thus my future wills it.

There is more wisdom in your body than in your best wisdom. And who then knows why your body needs precisely your best wisdom?