Remain True To The Earth.

My Idea Of Paradise Is A Straight Line To Goal

God Is Dead. God Remains Dead. And We Have Killed Him. How Shall We Comfort Ourselves, The Murderers Of All Murderers? What Was Holiest And Mightiest Of All That The World Has Yet Owned Has Bled To Death Under Our Knives: Who Will Wipe This Blood Off Us? What Water Is There For Us To Clean Ourselves? What Festivals Of Atonement, What Sacred Games Shall We Have To Invent? Is Not The Greatness Of This Deed Too Great For Us? Must We Ourselves Not Become Gods Simply To Appear Worthy Of It?

[heraclitus Had] Pride Not In Logical Knowledge But Rather In Intuitive Grasping Of The Truth.

The Object Of Convalescence Ought To Be To Turn Our Attention To Life: At Other Times, Simply To Our Tasks!

We Set No Special Value On The Possession Of A Virtue Until We Percieve That It Is Entirely Lacking In Our Adversary.