The Doer Alone Learneth.

One Has Renounced The Great Life When One Renounces War.

From The Sun Did I Learn This, When It Goeth Down, The Exuberant One: Gold Doth It Then Pour Into The Sea, Out Of Inexhaustible Riches, -so That The Poorest Fisherman Roweth Even With Golden Oars! For This Did I Once See, And Did Not Tire Of Weeping In Beholding It. - Like The Sun Will Also Zarathustra Go Down: Now Sitteth He Here And Waiteth, Old Broken Tables Around Him, And Also New Tables Half-written.

The Great End Of Art Is To Strike The Imagination With The Power Of A Soul That Refuses To Admit Defeat Even In The Midst Of A Collapsing World.

The Elimination Of The Will Altogether And The Switching Off Of The Emotions All And Sundry, Is Tantamount To The Elimination Of Reason: Intellectual Castration.

There Are Slavish Souls Who Carry Their Appreciation For Favors Done Them So Far That They Strangle Themselves With The Rope Of Gratitude.