Cynicism Is The Only Form In Which

I Am Opposed To Socialism Because It Dreams Ingenuously Of Good, Truth, Beauty, And Equal Rights.

In This State One Enriches Everything Out Of One's Own Fullness: Whatever One Sees, Whatever Wills Is Seen Swelled, Taut, Strong, Overloaded With Strength. A Man In This State Transforms Things Until They Mirror His Power—until They Are Reflections Of His Perfection. This Having To Transform Into Perfection Is—art.

Not Infrequently, We Encounter Copies Of Important Human Beings; And Here, Too, As In The Case Of Paintings, Most People Prefer The Copies To The Originals.

They Climb The Mountain Like Beasts, Stupid And Sweating; It Seems That No One Bothered To Tell Them That There Are Beautiful Vistas Along The Way.

What Can Everyone Do? Praise And Blame. This Is Human Virtue, This Is Human Madness.