The most general deficiency in our sort of culture and education is gradually dawning on me: no one learns, no one strives towards, no one teaches--enduring loneliness.

A soul which knows that it is loved, but does not itself love, betrays its sediment: its dregs come up.

Epicurus had rage and envy of Plato's superior style.

Here one must think profoundly to the very basis and resist all sentimental weakness: life itself is essentially appropriation, injury, conquest of the strange and weak, suppression, severity, obtrusion of peculiar forms, incorporation, and at the least, putting it mildest, exploitation - but why should one for ever use precisely these words on which for ages a disparaging purpose has been stamped?

One who has given up any hope of winning a fight or has clearly lost it wants his style in fighting to be admired all the more.

Man alone resists the direction of gravitation: he constantly wants to fall--upwards.

Love brings to light the lofty and hidden characteristics of the lover--what is rare and exceptional in him: to that extent it caneasily be deceptive with respect to what is normal in him.