The superman is a premature ideal, one that presupposes man.

Progress, under whose feet the grass mourns and the forest turns into paper from which newspaper plants grow, has subordinated the purpose of life to the means of subsistence and turned us into the nuts and bolts for our tools.

He who does without the praise of the crowd will not deny himself an opportunity to be his own adherent.

Heinrich Heine so loosened the corsets of the German language that today every little salesman can fondle her breasts.

To be sure, the dog is loyal. But why, on that account, should we take him as an example? He is loyal to man, not to other dogs.

Life is an effort that deserves a better cause.

The heroes of obtrusiveness, people with whom no soldier would lie down in the trenches, though he has to submit to being interviewed by them, break into recently abandoned royal castles so that they can report, "We got there first!" It would be far less shameful to be paid for committing atrocities than for fabricating them.