Whoever Aims Publicly At Great Things And

It Is Nobler To Declare Oneself Wrong Than To Insist On Being Right --especially When One Is Right.

I Still Live, I Still Think: I Still Have To Live, For I Still Have To Think.

There Is Always Some Madness In Love.

And It Is The Great Noon When Man Stands At The Midpoint Of His Course Between Beast And Superman And Celebrates His Way To The Evening As His Highest Hope: For It Is The Way To A New Morning.

What Then Is Truth? A Movable Host Of Metaphors, Metonymies, And Anthropomorphisms: In Short, A Sum Of Human Relations Which Have Been Poetically And Rhetorically Intensified, Transferred, And Embellished, And Which, After Long Usage, Seem To A People To Be Fixed, Canonical, And Binding. Truths Are Illusions Which We Have Forgotten Are Illusions — They Are Metaphors That Have Become Worn Out And Have Been Drained Of Sensuous Force.