Pity Is Extolled As The Virtue Of

There Is Always Some Madness In Love.

You Know A Moment Is Important When It Is Making Your Mind Go Numb With Beauty.

But Like Infection Is The Petty Thought: It Creeps And Hides, And Wants To Be Nowhere--until The Whole Body Is Decayed And Withered By The Petty Infection... Thus Spoke Zarathustra.

He Who Possesses Greatness Is Cruel Towards His Secondary Virtues And Considerations.

What Good Is A Book That Does Not Even Transport Us Beyond All Books?