Only The Most Acute And

Something Might Be True While Being Harmful And Dangerous In The Highest Degree. Indeed, It Might Be A Basic Characteristic Of Existence That Those Who Know It Completely Would Perish, In Which Case The Strength Of A Spirit Should Be Measured According To How Much Of The 'truth' One Could Still Barely Endure- Or To Put It More Clearly, To What Degree One Would Require It To Be Thinned Down, Shrouded, Sweetened, Blunted, Falsified.

In The Dark, Time Feels Different Than When It Is Light.

In Bach There Is Still Too Much Crude Christianity, Crude Germanism, Crude Scholasticism; He Stands On The Threshold Of European (modern) Music, But He Looks Back From There To The Middle Ages.

The Individual Has Always To Struggle To Keep From Being Overwhelmed By The Tribe.

To Live As I Incline, Or Not To Live At All: So Do I Wish; So Wisheth Also The Holiest. But Alas! How Have I Still - Inclination? Have I-still A Goal? A Haven Towards Which My Sail Is Set?a Good Wind? Ah, He Only Who Knoweth Whither He Saileth, Knoweth What Wind Is Good, And A Fair Wind For Him.what Still Remaineth To Me? A Heart Weary And Flippant; And Unstable Will; Fluttering Wings; A Broken Backbone.this Seeking For My Home: O Zarathustra, Dost Thou Know That This Seeking Hath Been My Home-sickening; It Eateth Me Up.