Men Submit From Habit To

Yet Tell Me, My Brothers: If A Goal For Humanity Is Still Lacking, Is There Not Still Lacking--humanity Itself?

Illness Is A Clumsy Attempt To Arrive At Health: We Must Come To Nature's Aid With Intellect.

My Formula For Greatness In A Human Being Is Amor Fati: That One Wants Nothing To Be Different, Not Forward, Not Backward, Not In All Eternity. Not Merely Bear What Is Necessary, Still Less Conceal It—all Idealism Is Mendaciousness In The Face Of What Is Necessary—but Love It

...throw Roses Into The Abyss And Say: 'here Is My Thanks To The Monster Who Didn't Succeed In Swallowing Me Alive.

The Man Who Sees Little Always Sees Less Than There Is To See; The Man Who Hears Badly Always Hears Something More Than There Is To Hear.