What We Do Is Never Understood, But

And If Ye Cannot Be Saints Of Knowledge, Then, I Pray You, Be At Least Its Warriors. They Are The Companions And Forerunners Of Such Saintship.

Life Is An Instinct For Growth, For Survival, For The Accumulation Of Forces, For Power.

It Is Inhuman To Bless Where One Is Cursed.

The Great Man... Is Colder, Harder, Less Hesitating, And Without Fear Of 'opinion'; He Lacks The Virtues That Accompany Respect And 'respectability,' And Altogether Everything That Is The 'virtue Of The Herd.' If He Cannot Lead, He Goes Alone... He Knows He Is Incommunicable: He Finds It Tasteless To Be Familiar... When Not Speaking To Himself, He Wears A Mask. There Is A Solitude Within Him That Is Inaccessible To Praise Or Blame.

Those Who Know That They Are Profound Strive For Clarity. Those Who Would Like To Seem Profound To The Crowd Strive For Obscurity. For The Crowd Believes That If It Cannot See To The Bottom Of Something It Must Be Profound. It Is So Timid And Dislikes Going Into The Water.