How Much Truth Can A

One Must Be A Sea, To Receive A Polluted Stream Without Becoming Impure.

People Live For The Morrow, Because The Day-after-to-morrow Is Doubtful.

The Disgust With Dirt Can Be So Great That It Keeps Us From Cleaning Ourselves--from "justifying" Ourselves.

I Do Not Know What The Spirit Of A Philosopher Could More Wish To Be Than A Good Dancer. For The Dance Is His Ideal, Also His Fine Art, Finally Also The Only Kind Of Piety He Knows, His 'divine Service.'

There Is Always A Certain Noise In Applause: Even In The Applause We Give Ourselves.