The truthful man ends up realizing that he always lies.

The noble caste was in the beginning always the barbarian caste: their superiority lay, not in their physical strength, but primarily in their psychical - they were more complete human beings.

Love of one is a piece of barbarism: for it is practised at the expense of all others. Love of God likewise.

Praise is more obtrusive than a reproach.

Shared joys make a friend, not shared sufferings.

I love something: and scarcely do I love it completely when the tyrant in me says: "I want that in sacrifice." This cruelty is in my entrails. Behold! I am evil.

We do not hate as long as we still attach a lesser value, but only when we attach an equal or a greater value.