Verily, A Polluted Stream Is Man. One

Books For All The World Are Always Foul-smelling Books: The Smell Of Small People Clings To Them.

In Morality, Man Treats Himself Not As Individuum But As Dividuum.

Every Tradition Grows Continually More Venerable, And The More Remote Its Origins, The More This Is Lost Sight Of. The Veneration Paid The Tradition Accumulates From Generation To Generation, Until It At Last Becomes Holy And Excites Awe.

The Followers Of A Great Man Often Put Their Eyes Out, So That They May Be The Better Able To Sing His Praise.

One Has To Pay Dearly For Immortality; One Has To Die Several Times While One Is Still Alive.