Without Music, Life Would Be A Mistake.

The Radical Hostility, The Deadly Hostility Against Sensuality, Is Always A Symptom To Reflect On: It Entitles Us To Suppositions Concerning The Total State Of One Who Is Excessive In This Manner.

Where There Is Happiness, There Is Found Pleasure In Nonsense. The Transformation Of Experience Into Its Opposite, Of The Suitable Into The Unsuitable, The Obligatory Into The Optional (but In Such A Manner That This Process Produces No Injury And Is Only Imagined In Jest), Is A Pleasure.

The Good Displeases Us When We Are Not Up To It.

Is It Not Better To Fall Into The Hands Of A Murderer, Than Into The Dreams Of A Lustful Woman?

But Anyone Who Has Really Made Sacrifices Knows That He Wanted And Got Something In Return Perhaps Something For Something Of Himself - That He Gave Up In Order To Have More Here Or At Least To Feel That He Has "more".