Love Forgives The Lover Even His Lust.

The Most Intelligent Men, Like The Strongest, Find Their Happiness Where Others Would Find Only Disaster: In The Labyrinth, In Being Hard With Themselves And With Others, In Effort; Their Delight Is Self-mastery; In Them Asceticism Becomes Second Nature, A Necessity, As Instinct.

What We Do Is Never Understood, But Always Merely Praised Or Blamed.

Life Is A Well Of Joy; But For Those Out Of Whom An Upset Stomach Speaks, Which Is The Father Of Melancholy, All Wells Are Poisoned.

The Apprentice And The Master Love The Master In Different Ways.

Seducing One's Neighbor To A Good Opinion And Then Afterwards Believing Devoutly In This Neighbor's Opinion--who Can Match Women In This Clever Ploy?