Only Strong Personalities Can Endure History, The

A Refined Soul Is Distressed To Know That Someone Owes It Thanks; A Crude Soul, To Know That It Owes Someone Thanks.

The Misunderstanding Of Passion And Reason, As If The Latter Were An Independent Entity And Not Rather A System Of Relations Between Various Passions And Desires; And As If Every Passion Did Not Possess Its Quantum Of Reason.

Without Art We Would Be Nothing But Foreground And Live Entirely In The Spell Of That Perspective Which Makes What Is Closest At Hand And Most Vulgar Appear As If It Were Vast, And Reality Itself.

However Much We May Feel For The Misery Of Someone Close To Us, We Always Act With Some Artificiality In Their Presence. We Hold-back From Telling Them Everything We Think, Often Because We Do Not Genuinely Mean What We Say; Or Because We Take A Pleasure In Their Plight, Thankful That We Are Not Affected.

The Man Of The Future Who Will Redeem Us Not Only From The Hitherto Reigning Ideal But Also From That Which Was Bound To Grow Out Of It, The Great Nausea, The Will To Nothingness, Nihilism; This Bell Stroke Of Noon And Of The Great Decision That Liberates The Will Again And Restores Its Goal To The Earth And His Hope To Man; This Antichrist And Anti-nihilist; This Victor Over God And Nothingness - He Must Come One Day.