Wit As An Instrument Of Revenge Is

Life Is Writing. The Sole Purpose Of Mankind Is To Engrave The Thoughts Of Divinity Onto The Tablets Of Nature.

There Is No Self-knowledge But An Historical One. No One Knows What He Himself Is Who Does Not Know His Fellow Men, Especially The Most Prominent One Of The Community, The Master's Master, The Genius Of The Age.

The Poetry Of This One Is Called Philosophical, Of That One Philological, Of A Third Rhetorical, And So On. Which Is Then The Poetic Poetry?

If One Writes Or Reads Novels From The Point Of View Of Psychology, It Is Very Inconsistent And Petty To Want To Shy Away From Even The Slowest And Most Detailed Analysis Of The Most Unnatural Lusts, Gruesome Tortures, Shocking Infamy, And Disgusting Sensual Or Spiritual Impotence.

Whoever Has Not Arrived At The Clear Insight That There Might Be Greatness Entirely Outside His Own Sphere For Which He Has No Understanding, Whoever Does Not Have At Least A Dim Inkling In Which Area Of The Human Spirit This Greatness Might Be Situated: He Is Within His Own Sphere Either Without Genius, Or He Has Not Educated Himself Up To The Point Of The Classical Attitude.