It Is Inhuman To Bless Where One

The Most Common Sort Of Lie Is The One Uttered To One's Self.

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?

I Overcame Myself, The Sufferer; I Carried My Own Ashes To The Mountains; I Invented A Brighter Flame For Myself.

When A Man Is Ill His Very Goodness Is Sickly.

How Can A Man Know Himself? He Is A Thing Dark And Veiled; And If The Hare Has Seven Skins, Man Can Slough Off Seventy Times Seven And Still Not Be Able To Say: "this Is Really You, This Is No Longer Outer Shell.