Deep Is The Well Of

Every Word Is A Prejudice.

One Who Is Publicly Honest About Himself Ends Up By Priding Himself Somewhat On This Honesty: For He Knows Only Too Well Why He Is Honest-for The Same Reasons Another Person Prefers Illusion And Dissimulation.

Out Of Damp And Gloomy Days, Out Of Solitude, Out Of Loveless Words Directed At Us, Conclusions Grow Up In Us Like Fungus: One Morning They Are There, We Know Not How, And They Gaze Upon Us, Morose And Gray. Woe To The Thinker Who Is Not The Gardener But Only The Soil Of The Plants That Grow In Him.

I Want To Learn More And More To See As Beautiful What Is Necessary In Things; Then I Shall Be One Of Those Who Make Things Beautiful. Amor Fati: Let That Be My Love Henceforth! I Do Not Want To Wage War Against What Is Ugly. I Do Not Want To Accuse; I Do Not Even Want To Accuse Those Who Accuse. Looking Away Shall Be My Only Negation. And All In All And On The Whole: Some Day I Wish To Be Only A Yes-sayer.

Woman Learns How To Hate In Proportion As She Forgets How To Charm.